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THE 


MINISTRY OF LIFE 


M '.EIA LOUISA CHARLESWOETH, 

to 

AUTHOR OF “ministering CHILDREN,” ETC. ETC. 


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“r>r t ven the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to 
minister.” — ^Mark x. 45. 


NEW YORK : 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 

443 445 BBOADWAT. 

1864. ( 


Bequest 

Albert Adslt Clemoxis 
Aug. 24, 1933 
(17ot Bvailable for exchange) 


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PREFACE, 


The following pages have been written in the hope 
that some of those who, a few years ago, gave their 
young and touching welcome to the tale that pictured 
childhood’s ministry, will retain the same child-like 
spirit, making them willing to be led by every aid in 
still advancing paths of pleasantness and peace. 
Around their youth the responsibilities of older life 
may now be opening, and the measure of their use- 
fulness and blessedness must depend upon the way 
they meet the deepening calls which added years can- 
not fail to bring. 

In gathering from the experience of life for those 
who are as yet only crossing its threshold, it would be 
impossible in a small volume to delineate all the bear- 
ings of Society’s large circle. There is much to regret 
in the present aspect of many amongst the sons and 
brothers of our land, who indulge in a reckless selfish- 
ness, as if it were a birthright privilege ; or who study 


4 


PREFACE. 


apathy as if it were repose, and appear incapable of 
being quickened into self-forgetting interests and ani- 
mated energy. Such characters are too generally 
familiar to need the portrait-painter to make them 
known; we can but ask to unfold before them “a 
more excellent way.” And equally amongst the 
daughters and sisters of our land must we mourn the 
indifference, independence, unsheltered forwardness, 
which are effacing the dignity and feminine grace 
that have been one peculiar glory of our nation. We 
could not attempt to perpetuate the memory of that 
which we trust will prove more transient than the 
lives of those who have adopted feelings and habits 
opposed to “ Whatsoever things are lovely, and of 
good report,” “If there be any virtue, and if there be 
any praise,” (as we rejoicingly know that there are,) 
rather would be obey the apostolic injunction, and 
“ think on these things.” 

It is not without regret that a book entitled “ The 
Ministry of Life ” is allowed to appear, in no way 
adapted to the peasant’s hand. It is not that the 
cottage has been forgotten, in its hallowed nook in 
the social circle ; but, while childhood’s ministry ol 
love could be universally blended, in older life sub- 
jects arise which to the peasant would be useless and 
incomprehensible. Yet it may be that some blessed 
influence will flow to the poor, through hearts whom 


PREFACE. 


6 


God may incline to a sympathy with the principles 
these pages delineate. 

This work has not been written to illustrate the 
personal effort involved in moral progress on earth, 
but to illustrate the actual ministry of life ; therefore 
the former is only alluded to, while the latter is dwelt 
upon in detail. If our aim in life be rightly directed, 
and followed in a right spirit, sustaining strength for 
every effort, and patience under every discourage- 
ment, will certainly be given from on high. 

Limpsfield Kectoet 
August, 1858. 




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THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTEE I. 

‘ Brother ! my child — ^my orphan Antonia ! ’ These words 
expressed the last earthly anxiety of a British officer, as, sup- 
ported by his elder brother’s arm, the tide of earthly life 
ebbed fast and faint away. Tidings of the ‘ casualties ’ of 
that day’s strife reached the country town from afar, and 
the child’s trembling hope of her father’s return was ex- 
changed for the certainty of earth’s enduring separation. 
The loneliness of the orphan came down upon her heart. 
Kind friends and faithful servants gathered round her, but 
there was no longer one kindred spirit upon earth to whom 
she was life’s first care — its first object of affection. Oh, 
within many an infant bosom beats an heroic soul, whose 
hidden conflict of feeling, uncomplaining patience, and con- 
quest of self, would, could it be revealed, unfold far nobler 
achievements than the impetuous daring, which, sometimes, 
is the only pretension to the trophies of victory ! Before 
General North allowed himself to see his home, after land- 


8 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


ing once more on his native shore, he clasped the orphan 
Antonia to his heart, and made immediate arrangements for 
her accompanying him to reside henceforth in his family. 
The presence of her uncle led Antonia to repress the over- 
flowing distress which fllled her breast at the thought of 
being severed from all the associations of her childhood 
and home. Her efforts of self-command were not lost bn 
the observant heart that had hastened to adopt her as its 
own. General North was not one of those surface- observers 
by whom the silence of expression is assumed to indicate 
the absence of all deep emotion ; and the parental tender- 
ness with which he transplanted this child of twelve years 
from her home, was the earthly balm of her full cup of sor- 
rows. They travelled on from the wide, level heaths and 
gentle slopes of her native scenery, to where the land wore 
larger features, where the low uplands rose to hills, and 
the valleys swept between them ; where the little streams 
blended in one bright rushing river, and the scattered copse- 
woods were exchanged for forests of the noble beech. 

General North inherited the entailed family estates, and 
it was one of the palace-homes of England to which he bore 
the orphan child. Her aunt received her with the welcome 
of a true sympathy, sparing her the response to much ex- 
pression or inquiry j and for a time she was left free to fol- 
low her own will, and solace and acquaint herself as best 
she might with all things around her. Her two youngest 
cousins, Clara and Leonore, were always in the schoolroom, 
or in some way engaged with their governess, except in the 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


9 


evening. Anastasia, her eldest cousin, was two or three* 
and-twenty years of age, and followed exclusively her own 
line of pursuit. Happily for Antonia, General North’s only 
son was then at home ; he followed his father’s profession of 
arms, and within a few weeks was to return to the ser- 
vice, from which his father had decided on retiring. 

This soldier cousin. Lieutenant North, gave Antonia a 
brother’s companionship ; his thoughtful kindness was blend- 
ed with that instinct of respect, which in some minds is a 
universal feeling for every human being of man’s immortal 
race, and blended also with reverence for the sorrow even of 
a child : he became to Antonia in a brief space of time the 
perfection of an elder brother. 

Three weeks passed by, and Lieutenant North rejoined 
his regiment, but his work departed not with his presence ; 
he had cared to shelter the first days of the stranger child 
— ^to bend his older companionship to her younger years — 
to win her confidence before her spirit sealed up in silent 
feeling all its orphaned sympathies ; and to beguile her with 
Nature’s charms, which have a secret power to soften grief 
in every heart that yields itself to their influence. Her 
adopted brother was gone, but Antonia was strengthened. 
She trod her new home with a step more assured, and look* 
ed on others with less timid glances : the soldier had turned 
to fulfil a simple work of unselfish charity, performed itself, 
in a short space of time, but its effect lasted on in unmeas- 
ured duration; it was the child’s first launch upon life’s 
changeful sea, and the tenderness of a father, the devotion 
1 * 


10 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


and confidence of a brother, had met and welcomed her af- 
fection and her trust, before one needless burden had been 
imposed, or one needless check had been given, Anto- 
nia still spent most of the summer day in the beech- 
woods surrounding the mansion; there at eventide she 
often lingered, unwilling to leave the last sunbeam which 
had wandered in amongst the giant stems, shedding there its 
golden lustre ; and when that last sunbeam faded, the child 
still lingered on, because the music of the woods swelled loud- 
er as the shadows fell. She listened as the birds answered 
each other in their songs, and in her fancy framed them in- 
to thoughts of Heaven. The evening star looked down up- 
on her through the opening leaves, and she looked up to it ; 
then starting with a sigh, she lifted her large hat from the 
ground, and hastened home. She left the squirrel on the 
bough, the hares and rabbits feeding on the bank, the birds 
to their evening song, and the kindling stars of night ; and, 
half-frightened lest she should meet the chiding — that yet 
never came, she hastened home, often wondering that she 
alone was left to love an hour so beautiful ! And when the 
dazzling lamp that shed its light within the entrance-hall, 
and the glare of all the candles in the curtained drawing- 
room, first broke upon her heaven-filled eyes, she wondered 
more, and felt her silent spirit lonely. But when kind looks 
and pleasant voices greeted her, she was happy in the pres- 
ent moment, and the scene she had left only gaye its soften- 
ing depth to her young feelings. 

The time came at length when Mrs. North expressed 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


11 


her wish that Antonia should join her cousins in the school- 
room, and the hope that she would improye to the utmost 
the advantages there afforded her, and not allow anything 
to divert her attention from the studies necessary to a 
thorough education. 

Antonia tried to respond to her aunt’s wish, but it was 
with more of apprehension than confidence. She had been 
sent during the last few years to a day-school in the coun- 
try-town where her father’s residence had been fixed ; there 
she had her daily lessons of the arts and sciences in cate- 
chisms, which, containing the outlines, unillumed with any 
of the poetry of genius or nature, were soon forgotten in 
their unattractive dulness; but the child’s observant, re- 
flective mind had from infancy been drawing in its own pure 
aliment at every pore, and had attained a natural healthful 
expansiveness and apprehension, that no mere routine of 
study could have imparted ; rather would it more probably 
have seriously impeded the development of heart and mind, 
that was ready now to breathe its freshness in the home of 
its adoption, as it had before in its native nest. It was an 
anxious moment — this young mind of delicate sensitiveness, 
guarded and gently unfolded beneath the light of all pure 
and lovely things, in its infancy by a mother’s tenderness, in 
its childhood by a father’s care, learning its harmless amount 
of lessons at a day-school, now suddenly to be thrown into the 
hard study of a thorough schoolroom education ! Who could 
but fear that the heavy shower, meant to nurture, would 
surcharge the tender flower — that either it would bend and 


12 


THE MINISTKY OF LIFE. 


break, or never look np again with such native ease to the 
blue heavens above its head ? 

Antonia accompanied her cousins to the schoolroom. 
She had seen Miss Keymer, their governess, every even- 
ing, in the drawing-room, and had always made one of the 
schoolroom party at tea ; but now on entering, she instantly 
observed Miss Keymer’s altered expression of countenance ; 
there was an anxious, overpressed look upon her face, that 
she never remembered to have seen before : was it habitual 
to the schoolroom ? or was it a foreboding of the task that 
awaited her in Antonia’s education ? 

‘ I must find out what progress you have already made in 
your studies, my dear, and then I shaU know how best to 
arrange for you in future. I suppose you have made some 
proficiency in music ? ’ 

‘ No, I can scarcely play at all. I had lessons of a 
music-mistress in the town, but she said I had not courage 
for execution.’ 

‘ Have you given it up then ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; I only play a few little airs by myself because I 
don’t like to forget them.’ 

‘ It is a great pity you should have given it up, because 
you have lost too much time ever to regain it. Do you 
draw ? ’ 

‘ No ; I had some lessons, but the master said I had no 
perseverance, and I was glad to leave off.’ 

‘No perseverance I that is a bad fault indeed 1 Did 
you not like drawing ? ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


13 


‘ 0 no ; I used to look at all the little fine straight 
strokes until my head ached, and then I made them crooked. 

* Could he not have given you some broad strokes to 
copy ? ’ 

‘ I do not know ; he always drew my copies himself, and 
I don’t think his pencils could make broad strokes, the 
points were so fine 1 ’ 

‘You are fond of languages, 1 hope ? ’ 

‘ I don’t know any ! ’ 

‘ Not any, my dear ? you don’t say so I how could your 
education be so neglected ? ’ 

‘ Indeed it was not neglected ! I was put in a class to 
learn French at school, but they were all in the middle of 
the syntax ; I never could make it out,* so my exercises were 
always wrong, the master said grammar was everything.’ 

‘ Of course it is" essential in the study of a language. I 
hope, at least, you understand the English grammar ! ’ 

‘ I have learnt Murray quite through, but I forget it 
now.’ 

‘ My dear, impossible ! Tell me, then, what you have 
learnt, — what you do know?’ Antonia looked down in 
silence. Miss Keymer tried geography, but Antonia could 
still only confess ignorance : dates in history — ^but An- 
tonia stood hopeless. Miss Keymer was in despair. An- 
tonia’s tasks were given from the first rudiments of all 
things, and the duty of now devoting every possible moment 
to study was urged upon her by her anxious instructress. 

Mrs. North possessed a mind of high intelligence and 


14 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


cultivation, but she had too much overlooked the fact, that, 
to cram smaller brains, or brains acutely sensitive, with all 
that more comprehensive ojr stronger ones have held freely, 
must of necessity clog and oppress them — effectually pre- 
venting the exercise and expansion of their native power. 
Not one of Mrs. North’s children possessed their mother’s 
mental abilities, yet their governess was expected to bring 
them up to the same standard of attainment ; with much 
labour and anxiety on Miss Keymer’s part, and greaf dili- 
gence on that of her pupils, the whole amount was likely to 
be wedged in. Their mother looked forward to the time 
when they would be her intelligent, interesting, and inter- 
ested companions, not having calculated on the possibility 
that the weight of ' acquirement might weaken the free 
spring of thought ; that the power of observation — which is 
the eye of the mind — might be obscured by the labour of 
acquisition, as overwork darkens the visual ray ; and the 
spirit’s freedom and repose be destroyed in the ceaseless 
habit of mental exertion. Mrs. North already felt the first 
touch of disappointment in her eldest daughter, but this was 
attributed to character, and the children were still kept 
under a high-pressure engine of cultivation ; therefore Miss 
Keymer’s dismay may be better understood than expressed, 
when Antonia was introduced to the schoolroom. 

The days passed on with the stranger child, and she 
supposed her burden unknown and unnoticed. The light 
was gone from her eyes, and the smile from her lips, as, 
through the drawing-room evening, the whole array of 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


15 


materials for education floated in a confused mass before 
her tired eyes ; she saw not her uncle’s kind and often im- 
patient look of inquiry directed towards her, nor the expres- 
sion of anxious interest in her aunt’s intelligent counte- 
nance ; nor did she know that her aunt had prevailed on 
General North to allow a month to pass over before any in- 
quiry was made of Antonia, in the hope that by that time 
she would be reconciled to application, and Miss Keymer be 
able to report hopefully of future progress. The end of the 
month came at length, and its last day proved by far the 
worst ; for, when Antonia was expected to repeat the sub- 
stance of all she had learned, her confused memory could 
furnish nothing that proved any compensation to Miss Key- 
mer for her trouble, nor to herself for her efforts. There 
was no mistaking the expression of her face on that evening. 
Her uncle was at no loss to read it, and equally resolved to 
remedy it. He called her aside to his study, which opened 
with folding-doors from the drawing-room ; while the evening 
music continued, he could talk with her there undisturbed. 

* Well, little girl, is the field lost or won ? does Miss 
Keymer write you down for a paragon or a dunce ? Tell it 
out, and tell me all ! ’ 

* 0 uncle ! I never tried so hard ; but I seem to have no 
memory, nor understanding, nor taste, and I am quite in 
despair ! ’ 

‘ Despair ! who ever heard such a word from the lips of 
thirteen? and a soldier’s child too! Did Miss Keymer 
teach you despair ? ’ 


16 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ Noj uncle ; Miss Keymer is very patient and kind, and 
says she does not give up hope to make something of me 
yet ; but, indeed, I shall soon be quite miserable, for I give 
nothing but trouble, and no use in the end, because every- 
thing jumbles together, and I don’t know one thing from 
another.’ 

‘ What goes to make up this everything ? ’ 

Antonia counted her lessons over. ‘ Well to be sure,’ 
replied her uncle, ‘ the number is something staggering to 
courage ; and a young recruit, too ! but take comfort, little 
girl, no bounty money has been paid for you yet ; I don’t 
reckon you enlisted in the schoolroom, and if you like 
better to stand by your old uncle’s colours, and take your 
chances with him, you shall do so ; and I will try my hand 
at what may be done with you yet. Don’t be frightened ! 
I am not going to hold up a primer and have you stand be- 
fore me to spell the cross-row. I have no school for cadets, 
but if you like to take a bold venture at my side, and breast 
the world’s battle-field, as if you had been trained for it, 
why so you shall, and we will share this study between us.’ 

‘ 0 uncle, how glad I should be I I thought I was never 
to feel free any more ! ’ 

‘ Very well, then, it is settled ; I will let you know the 
hours I expect you to be here with me, and all the remain- 
der of your time I give you free as your own.’ 

When Antonia, Clara, and Leonore, had retired from 
the drawing-room. General North communicated the ar- 
rangement he had made. Mrs. North heard the General’s 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


17 


promise in astonishment, remarking, ‘ Antonia is your niece, 
hut, were she mine, with her education so entirely neglected, 
I should certainly he more inclined to procure her a second 
governess, than to deprive her of the instructions of one so 
painstaking ! ’ 

‘Well, well; we are hut putting on our harness,’ re- 
plied the General kindly, ‘ let the issue proclaim our fate ! ’ 

Miss Keymer’s sense of relief was only equalled hy her 
pity for the child; hut Miss North expressed her belief that 
Antonia would grow up to expose her ignorance in general 
scoiety. 

‘And what if she should?’ replied the General, 
‘ some one will probably he able to set her right ; most will- 
ingly would I see a few mistakes of the head substituted 
for the far deeper errors of the heart — ^which are to he met 
with every day throughout society, I fear. A little readi- 
ness in acknowledging ignorance would he no discredit with 
those whose good opinion is most worth possessing.’ 

When Antonia, on leaving the drawing-room, communi- 
cated her future expectations, her cousin, Clara, spared no 
expressions of compassion. ‘ Learn with papa ! why papa 
has not an atom of patience! I never yet could read 
through one whole page to papa ! 0 poor Antonia, you are 

in for it now ! ’ Little Leonore looked up, hut said noth- 
ing. 

The next morning Antonia went to the study hy appoint- 
ment. It had from the first been her favourite room, it open- 
ed with glass doors on the lawn, like their own little draw- 


18 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


ing-room in the house of her parents ; the lawn of her native 
home was a very small one, but bright flowers bloomed 
round it, and the wild birds came daily for Antonia to feed 
them, it was beautiful, and sacred with blessed memories to 
her, and she had often stood at her uncle’s study window 
when no one was there, looking on the lawn and the birds, 
lost in dreams of her home, until his step, or some other, sud- 
denly aroused her. On her entering now, by her uncle’s ap- 
pointment, she found a little table and desk placed ready, 
and a small high-backed oaken chair placed for her at this, 
her favourite window ; and when she took her seat, soft shad- 
ows were over the lawn, and the wild birds were chasing the 
flies, and hopping at will. 

‘ Now come to your uncle,’ said G-eneral North, cheer- 
ingly, * and tell him your wJiimSy since, if I understood right, 
you say you have neither memory, nor understanding, nor 
taste.’ 

* I only meant for those clever and difficult things that 
Clara does so well ; I can understand some things,’ said 
Antonia, looking up, as if pleading her own cause. 

‘ Well, well, I am the judge now ; I wonder what from 
those shelves of history you would care to read ? ’ 

‘ All ! all ! ’ exclaimed Antonia, as her delighted eyes 
gazed on the rows of volumes — folios, quartos, and octavos. 

‘ You care for history, then ? ’ 

‘ 0 yes, uncle ; if the day were thirty-six hours long, I 
could read history for twelve hours, I think ! but I had 
only Bollin, and some made up of pieces and dialogues.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


19 


* Are you fond of travels ? * 

‘ 0 yes ; I don’t mind where, or how long, but I had only 
Mungo Park and Columbus.’ 

‘ Do you care for poetry ? ’ 

* 0 yes ; I know Cowper almost by heart, and Milton I 
love dearly ; and once I found Spenser’s “ Fairy Queen ” in 
Home delightful old pamphlets ; and once, for a month, I had 
Dryden.’ 

General North appeared satisfied ; his inquiries went no 
further, and therefore he drew forth no further information. 
Reaching down the first volume of Clarendon, he bade the 
child take her seat and read on to him ; stretching himself 
in his arm-chair as listener. Antonia was too happy in the 
book before her to remember Clara’s foreboding as to fail- 
ure ; she read on until the lawn, and the birds, and her un- 
cle, were forgotten in the heroes of days long gone by. 

‘ Well, little girl,’ at length said her uncle, ‘ it is a good 
spell for once, as the days are not yet thirty-six hours long ; 
do you think you will keep the least glimpse of it all until 
to-morrow ? ’ 

‘ Yes, uncle ; I shall not forget ; if you try me, you will 
find I have not ! ’ 

When the family party assembled to luncheon. General 
North was not present until the conclusion of the repast, 
so that full opportunity was afforded for questioning Anto- 
nia ; but when she first entered the room, the calm sunlight 
of her eyes told of thoughtful hours of brightness and bless- 
ing. 


20 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


^ 0, you have not been with papa, then ? ’ exclaimed 
Clara, convinced of the impossibility of surviving it with so 
bright a brow. 

‘ Yes, indeed, I have ! ’ 

‘ Did you read to him ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; I don’t know for how long.’ 

Clara was silent in surprise ; but Anastasia hastened to 
remark : ^ You would not have got on so well, if it had not 
been that papa feels so much for you I ’ 

These words cast a shade for a moment on the child’s ex- 
pressive face ; it passed again, but not without lessening the 
brightness of that face to one lower degree. How is it that this 
is so often done heedlessly or purposely on earth ? It is an 
impulse of expression, probably, seldom, if ever, met with 
from minds of unselfish nature ; it is always directed to low- 
er the elevation at which it is aimed — to tarnish a little the 
brightness in which another is thought to be too much 
rejoicing — to lessen the value of that which is mg,king them 
feel enriched — to prove that some alloy is in the cup of which 
their lips are tasting the sweetness. A secret jealousy, that 
knows not how to let another be happy, if itself be passed by ; 
or an impatient impulse to express an opinion, which a bet- 
ter knowledge would have corrected; or yet, more often, 
perhaps, a positive inability of understanding the feelings of a 
mind whose tone is higher than its own. It must be often 
met on earth, because young spirits are seldom trained, and 
older spirits too often will not train themselves, to an un- 
selfish participation in the feelings of others. 


I 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 21 

When Antonia took her seat in the study the next morn- 
ing, and opened the first volume of Clarendon, to read again 
to her uncle, the shadow returned. The possible fear of the 
previous day had then been lost in the positive pleasure ; but 
now, the thought that her undisturbed enjoyment had been 
a consequence of the endurance of compassion, gave a weight 
instead of a lightness to the whole prospect before her. 

Her uncle instantly noticed the change, and with a dis- 
appointed feeling, said hastily, ‘ What hangs in the balance 
to-day ? — tired of your new schoolroom already ? * 

‘ 0 no, uncle ; yesterday was all happiness ! ’ 

‘ Then what is it ? Answer straight to the mark, or you 
will find no quarter from me.’ 

* I am afraid that if I do not read well it will tire 
you! ’ 

‘ So it will, to be sure, there’s no doubt of that. I 
always have said, and I say it still, that a bad reader 
proves a fault that lies somewhere deeper than in the head. 
Ah, ah I I see how it is ; they have been crying out “ fire,” 
and so scared you 5 but now no more bobbing from fear at 
a whizz, or I will not call you the child of a soldier again. 
Bear on with high courage without a thought of what’s 
coming, and if you get a knock down, and have the power 
left to rise, spring up again and bear on, twice as bravely as 
before! ’ And then he added in a softened tone, ‘ No more 
fear, little girl; never bugle rang sweeter on your old 
ancle’s ear than your young voice did yesterday ; if you 


\ 


22 THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 

don’t break down in courage, you will have your own way 
with him yet * 

Then the child raised one look to her uncle that beamed 
confidence from its bright depths, and was soon lost in the 
records of the old Cavalier. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE 


23 


CHAPTEE n. 

The care of one observant heart had rescued the child 
from th^ pressure that would have weighed down her bright 
expanding energies ; and by straining, would have destroyed 
the beauty of her intellectual being. The continued pres- 
sure would have brought her gushing sympathies into a 
fellowship with the mental strain, the heart must have shar- 
ed the over-burden of the mind, instead of being left free to 
flow forth and meet the feelings of others. Many a child, 
as life unfolds, might display an unselfish loveliness of char- 
acter, had not its early powers been in some way over-bur- 
dened. Not, on the one hand, to exhaust the energies, and 
so, by consequence, the sympathies also, by an over-strain- 
ing; and, on the other hand, not to leave those unexhaust- 
ed energies and sympathies running to waste, but to direct 
them to relative and social, as well as personal claims, must 
be one great secret of successful education. In General 
North to observe, to understand, and to act, had become, 
from the long unselfish habit of his life, almost instincts of 
nature. From observing, and understanding, none could 
hinder him ; and only one being in the world was ever per- 
mitted, with his own consent, to arrest the corresponding 


24 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


course of action, — his wife’s decision was allowed to super- 
sede his own. 

General North had entered on a public career while still 
very young, and when in after-life he urged his views on ed- 
ucation, Mrs. North always pleaded that, having himself 
been trained under very different circumstances, he must 
allow her to judge of the amount of mental discipline neces- ‘ 
sary to education in the sheltered indulgence of a luxurious 
home. 

To this General North objected that he was no enemy to 
discipline ; he only differed as to what discipline was — 

‘ Require obedience instant and unquestioning, put out your 
candle by curfew if you will, but give the mind, in its pur- 
suits, a latitude and choice worthy of its immortal and in- 
dividual nature. Do not constrain its varied powers, tastes, 
and feelings, to the same measured routine ; if you do, the 
living freshness of nature will be lost in the settled uniform- 
ity so imposed.’ 

To this Mrs. North replied, that the ground-work of 
knowledge must be first acquired. 

‘ But,’ objected the General, ‘ what is knowledge from 
its first to its latest acquirement ? It does not consist alone 
in what the schoolroom best aids; but is to be no less 
received by observation more at large, and conscious or un- 
conscious contemplation. Let the children grow and ex- 
pand like the flowers, assimilating all they receive with their 
being, and making the world around them the better for 
their presence, instead of all this imprisonment of educa* 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


25 


tion, until they are built up like a tower, brick upon brick, 
of no use to any one until it is finished^ and then looking 
down on all below it I ’ 

But Mrs. North thought the venture too great of allow- 
ing General North to direct the education of their girls; 
and she had no idea herself of any other plan than the one 
already pursued. 

It was in vain that General North finally urged that 
they should at least be left a little more to their own re- 
sources — not helplessly directed in every thing — in order 
that each child might not become a monotone, instead of 
yielding the indefinable variety inseparable from expanding 
life. In vain that he still maintained that the finest points 
of character could never be taught by routine, but must be 
drawn forth by the social charities of life — learned by obser- 
vation, and caught from reflection. The fact that he was 
wanting in the experience of the schoolroom, made Mrs. 
North look upon her own judgment as impregnable. Her 
decision, though trying to him in the extreme, being fatal 
to his enjoyment in his children, was yet always yielded to, 
because he had never crossed her wishes nor denied her 
will. 

When Antonia was added to the home, Mrs. North said 
all that she thought due to her interest in the child, and 
then yielded the point ; as she felt that the case was one in 
which General North’s judgment, however mistaken, ought 
to be allowed to decide. 

To General North it was a perpetual solace, day aft» 
2 


26 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


day, to devote some portion of his time to the orphan child 
of the brother, whom he would at any moment have risked 
his own life to save. But had it been otherwise, he would 
not have turned from the task ; for those who can observe 
and understand the under-current of feeling, are those also 
who are willing to act. The habit of observing, and the 
power of understanding the characters of others, are both 
the result as well as the incentive of self -sacrifice in action ; 
and like Him whose will they manifest, their reward is with 
them ! 

Antonia’s readings with her uncle soon became more 
varied; and General North found a pleasant reader no 
little acquisition to his daily enjoyment. By degrees one 
school-book after another found a place on Antonia’s writ- 
ing-table ; and her uncle was often appealed to in any diffi- 
culty she encountered. The child’s mind, relieved from all 
pressure, and pursuing steadily the acquirement of knowledge 
in the way in which it could best blend it with its own be- 
ing, found its power increase, and applied it to fresh sources 
of information. 

General North one day asked Antonia whether she 
would like to read a little German with him, if he promised 
to be her grammar, and only required her to use a diction- 
ary ? Antonia welcomed the proposal; it was not the 
dreaded French with which she had vainly struggled in the 
depths of the syntax ; it was fresh and untried, and to be 
able to begin in the middle, and without exercises, was the 
perfection of learning to a mind whose powers were all in- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


27 


tellectual, not mechanical. Learning, as it met her now, 
won the love of her heart, and fixed on its pursuit the 
thoughts and wishes of her mind. It soon became evident 
that whatever Antonia’s burdens might be, her acquirement 
of knowledge was not likely to prove one. Formed as she 
was, with a trembling sensitiveness of nature, which vibra- 
ted at every breath that passed along its chords, it was cer- 
tain that earth could offer no untroubled life for her ; but 
the veteran from the battle-field had spread his shield 
above the orphan’s head, and beneath its shelter she was 
gaining strength and power, to tread her outward way with 
dignity, and joy, and gentleness. 

When Antonia exchanged the heavy work of the school- 
room for her uncle’s study, she expressed to Miss Keymer 
her regret for the trouble she had given, and her sense of 
Miss Keymer’s kindness, with all the warmth of her simple 
ingenuous nature. Miss Keymer’s heart was replenished 
with good feeling, instead of pride, therefore her kind re- 
sponse soon set the orphan at rest, and Antonia’s free 
spirit added brightness at the schoolroom evening repasts. 

When the winter days came, Antonia still found full em- 
ployment for her time. Her aunt often invited her to her 
morning room, to sit by her sofa and read to her. On 
these occasions Mrs. North took down from her shelves — 
and listened while Antonia read to her — the works of deep 
research which had first interested her own mind, when her 
youth was some years in advance of what Antonia’s was 
then. Mrs. North felt free to enjoy the child’s companion- 


28 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ship, as she could not feel herself in any way the cause of 
Antonia’s imperfect education. 

In advancing life, a halo of interest gathers around all 
that first charmed the heart in youth ; Mrs. North would, 
probably, never have herself read through again the books 
of deepest interest in her earlier life ; but to lie on her sofa, 
amused with her work, and listen, while the almost forgot- 
ten trains of thought, argument, or fact, fell in the melody 
of words from the lips of the child, whose young mind 
opened to receive them, became to Mrs. North the luxury of 
the day. With the long past of studious thought, came back 
fresh breathings of all the early and bright associations that 
in youth had blended with them, until at times the present 
faded in a haze of memories and feelings of the long-ago,* 
and when Antonia stopped, unable to follow the clue of rea- 
soning, and looked up to her aunt to make its meaning clear, 
Mrs. North would, with a slight start, recall the present, 
and bid Antonia read her difficulty again. Never displeased 
at interruption, she added her own lucid comments, listened 
to Antonia’s questionings, and never thought the point made 
clear until the child was satisfied. In this way Antonia’s 
expanding mind, at fourteen years of age, was enriched by 
the thoughts that had flowed from much of the noblest ge- 
nius of her native land. The correctness of rules, and the 
mechanical apparatus of knowledge, she did not in all points 
acquire; but the comptrehensiveness of her mind was en- 
larged, and its power strengthened by the great thoughts it 


29 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

received, in a degree in which it could not most probably 
have otherwise been. ' 

The fact of learning from great minds, humble in their 
lofty elevation, and to Antonia’s apprehension inconceivably 
above herself, together with her own imperfect knowledge 
of what those around her esteemed essential, aided — so far 
as earthly means could aid — ^in keeping her still adorned 
with the simplicity of true humility. Mrs. North found in 
Antonia a companionship of mind, only the more attractive 
because of its untutored freshness, and young dependence 
on her clear and powerful intellect. 

One day Mrs. North said to the General, ‘ I really had 
no conception of the pleasure of imparting knowledge, until 
Antonia came daily to read with me ; but I could never un- 
dertake to lay the ground-work of education myself.’ 

* Alas,’ replied General North, ‘ for that terrible house- 
building system ! When nature lays all the roots first, I 
would do the same ; but until then I would look also after 
the branches, flowers, and fruit, and trust a little more for 
what you call the “ ground-work ! ” ’ 

The winter passed away, and the beech-trees unfolded 
their first tender leaves to the songs of the countless birds 
that filled the woodland depths with melody and joy ; the 
ground around those ancient trees was bright with all the 
young frail blossoming of spring, while high above the shel- 
tering veil of gleaming foliage the blue sky arched in soft- 
ness inexpressible. It was seldom now that the General or 
Mrs. North walked beyond the gardens ; they drove through 


30 


# 

THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

the beech-woods, but the lonely glades were rarely seen by 
them. The exquisite beauty of one of these rejoicing days 
tempted them beyond the terrace walk, and having once en- 
tered the woods they wandered on; The pathway at length 
climbed a height ; and as they walked above they looked 
down upon the green mist of the young foliage, on which 
the slanting sunbeams fell, shedding a radiance there, so 
blended with the softening green that the eye could rest up- 
on it with delight. In the glade’s low depth flowed on the 
sparkling, laughing river, dashing its crests of foam round 
each small peak of stone in its uneven bed, leaping on in 
mimic waterfalls, until, heard far away, its murmur died in 
whispered melody. The scene and sounds were so enchant- 
ing, that the General and Mrs. North paused to look and 
listen ; and as they gazed below, beneath the trees, a little 
way above the gleaming river, they saw Antonia seated, 
where wild anemones bloomed around her in their snowy ele- 
gance, and nature in its rich luxuriance encircled her on 
every side. 

‘ There is Antonia ! ’ said the General, ‘ we will not dis- 
turb her ; no doubt she thinks she has found a nest as lonely 
as the wild birds.’ 

‘ It would delight her,’ responded Mrs. North, ‘ to see us 
here.’ 

‘ Yes, it would delight her now, to turn and see us,’ re- 
plied the General, ‘ but she would never feel so free again in 
her solitude ; she would listen for a voice in every breeze, a 
step in every sound. I know well what it is to wander away 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


31 


from all, in forests wild enough ; my dreams were all of you, 
I cannot guess Antonia’s.’ 

Not far from Antonia’s glade they reached the head 
gamekeeper’s cottage, and stopped to make a call there as 
they passed ; only the wife was at home with her infant and 
youngest girl, the husband was in the woods, the elder 
children at school. The visit gave the good wife the greatest 
pleasure. She had kept an accurate account of the time 
that had passed since the General and Mrs. North last en- 
tered her cottage. ' ‘ Why, since Madam was here, my 
Charley and the babe have been born ; and since our master 
was in here there’s been the land-slip in the West Woods, 
and poor Sam Ling had his arm shot through by the 
poachers ! 

^ Pray, ma’am, as you came by, didn’t you see the dear 
young lady our master brought home from the wars ? You 
must have passed up above her, for she went by not the 
half of an hour agone, all in her black mourning still, to her 
lonesome covert down yonder, where she sits by the two 
hours together, reading her book. Pray did Madam know 
that when the dear young lady found out last winter, by 
chance as it were, that neither I nor my husband could read, 
and the young ones getting ahead of us in that, she took up 
with learning us both ? Dear me, the hours, one time with 
another, she sat xmder our thatch in the winter, till we both 
got a hold of it ! My husband, he’s a wonderful no^tion of it 
already ; and I can pick it out a little, but not to say read 
well ; but she says if we keep on now, as well as we can, 


82 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


another winter will make us both pretty near perfect i 
Didn’t Madam know that ? 

‘ Well, it came on this way ; my husband used to come 
back — ^it was soon after our master brought her home from 
the wars — and my husband used to come home, and say he’d 
seen that young thing sitting there on the ground, like to a 
young dove fallen out from the nest ; and he was always 
saying she should never sit there on the ground, when the 
autumn damp came at the fall o’ the leaf, if he had an arm 
to twist a withe ; so one day, ’gainst the fall o’ the year, he 
was up by the glimmer o’ the day, and made her a seat : ’tis 
rough enough, to be sure, but ’tis dry ; and ’tis long enough 
for her to lie upon and keep her young feet from the ground. 
And my husband has got an old sack he throws over it at 
night times, to keep it all fresh. We are as fond of her as 
if she were one of our own ! — to and fro with us so long — 
we should not know the place, like, without her, any more ! ’ 

One afternoon, when Antonia had been reading to her 
aunt, Mrs. North suddenly said, ‘Never mind about finish- 
ing the chapter, I daresay you want to be off to your nest in 
the woods ? ’ 

‘ 0 no, aunt I I only go there when I am alone ; I like 
to stay with you while I may.’ 

‘ What makes you so fond of sitting under the beech- 
trees ? ’ asked her aunt, in a tone that invited confidence. 

Antonia looked down, as she replied, ‘I always have 
liked, as long as I can remember, to be alone with only 
Nature, under the blue sky.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


33 


* But why ? * repeated her aunt, in the same kind tone. 

Antonia was silent a moment, and then said, ‘ I don’t 

know very well how to explain it, hut I like to lose myself 
in things so beautiful I ’ 

* Do you then spend all your time thinking of the things 
you see around you ? ’ 

* No, not all the time.’ 

‘ What else, then ? ’ asked Mrs. North, with the feeling 
— ^for the first time with a child — as if she were venturing 
on sacred ground. 

‘ I learn my Bible there ! ’ 

Mrs. North was at a moment’s loss to understand the 
simple answer, and said, ‘ How do you mean you learn it 
there, my dear ? ’ 

‘I learn the Psalms, the Prophets, the Grospels, the 
Epistles, and the Proverbs, and the Revelations,’ replied 
Antonia, looking up with kindling eyes, as she reckoned 
over the divine books of inspiration which she had learned 
from a child. 

Mrs. North was taken by surprise at such an array 
from the lips of a child who had shown herself so little 
disposed to learn by task-work; but she only remarked, 
* Then you commit the Bible to memory all the time you 
are in the woods ? ’ 

‘ No, sometimes I only read one verse, sometimes I only 
think of one I have learned before, and sometimes I say to 
myself a whole chapter or Psalm. Oh, they are so beautiful 
where only God and Nature are 1 ’ 

2 * 


34 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Mrs. North looked grave, but Antonia, beaming with her 
subject, did not observe the look. 

* What made you first think of learning the Bible in the 
woods ? ’ asked her aunt. 

‘ I did not learn it there first, I learned to love it first 
with mamma, and then with papa, and now I always learn it 
alone / ’ and the large tears of past deep joys and sorrows 
filled the child’s bright eyes. 

Mrs. North drew her to her, kissed her tenderly, and 
told her she might go. Antonia went, and Mrs. North was 
left alone. 

The glowing earnestness and simple truth of the child’s 
feeling and expression, had penetrated her aunt’s reflective 
mind. Mrs. North had sometimes heard the pleadings and 
appeals of the eminently great and good, and she had heeded 
not the message that they brought, the warning that they 
gave ; but the child — all glowing in the light and love her 
heart had gathered from the skies, was a witness she could 
not, did not scorn. The child, Mrs. North felt, was learn- 
ing all alone, therefore she might hope to follow in a path 
as solitary. Once, for a moment, as she thought upon 
Antonia’s last words, ‘ Now I always learn alone / ’ she 
thought that she would win her to her side to read with her, 
but then she thought again, it could not be, — the child’s 
remembrance was of saintly parents, pointing her infant eyes 
to Heaven, and teaching her to love the truth they read ; 
what could a stranger do in place of them, — a stranger to 
the knowledge and the love of all the child possessed ? No 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


35 


she, as a stranger to it yet, must learn it first alone / and 
day after day Mrs. North opened her Bible at the Psalms, 
the Prophets, or the Gospels, in remembrance of Antonia’s 
lonely communings with truth. But Mrs. North’s was a 
world-worn mind, whose freshness had faded, because it had 
not been rooted in the divine Redeemer from death ; it was 
diflSicult for her to receive the kingdom of God as a little 
child, or like Antonia to lose herself in a look up to Heaven. 
Long, long did the water of life in the divine Word flow 
over her soul, before its soil seemed prepared for one blossom 
of heavenly birth — for faith, or hope, or love new-born from 
above ; unknown by any was the long search for that joy 
eternal, whose first beam she had seen glowing in the face of 
the infantine Antonia... Prosperity, and flattery, and self- 
estimation, all opposed mountains in the way. But at length, 
after years had passed by, it gleamed on her from afar, like 
the one goodly pearl of the merchant, and then she could 
freely consent to sell all and buy it ; then flattery and self 
were cast away, and all things became new in their interest, 
their claim, and their blessing, as she walked in the light of 
the Lord. 


36 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE 


CHAPTEK m. 

Miss North had quitted the schoolioom some years 
before Antonia was received into her uncle’s house, and had 
long felt herself one of the seniors of the family. Having con- 
siderable energy of character, and, from her childhood, great 
rectitude of principle, she had perseveringly directed her 
powers into the one channel opened before her — the daily 
schoolroom requirements ; every lesson was learned, every 
task accomplished, but at the end it was commendation that 
Anastasia North won, rather than love. She had now quit- 
ted the schoolroom, but not the habit of a settled routine ; 
she arranged every personal pursuit with like regularity, and 
was always disturbed if the order of her plans happened to 
be broken in upon. She was always occupied, but it never 
appeared that her own mind gathered any increased fertility, 
it was not perceptibly becoming richer or more enlarged, her 
conversation gathered no deeper tone ; no one turned to hep 
in her house with any increasing confidence for the counsel, 
or encouragement, or sympathy they might need, and yet the 
fault was not altogether her own. Her unfolding life had 
not been blended with the lives of others ; she had not been 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


37 


trained as the young cheerer of her home^ and therefore she 
knew not how to become its older solace and delight.. Edu- 
cated as if her one duty were to apply her mind to her own 
information, who could expect that she should afterwards be 
found capable of passing into the self-forgetting home com- 
panion? Mrs. North had overlooked the fact that the 
means must bear a relative correspondence to the desired 
end ; her daughter had never deviated from the line in which 
the hand of authority had placed and kept her — who could 
expect a different result ? 

The first spring after Anastasia had left the schoolroom, 
General North took a house in London, and the whole fami- 
ly went up to spend the season in town. The distance was 
great, and the experiment did not prove satisfactory to either 
the General or Mrs. North ; therefore it was not again re- 
peated. The General missed the freedom and interests of 
his country residence, and Mrs. North felt disappointed in 
her daughter. Anastasia had quickly formed a friendship 
with some London relatives who were actively engaged in 
religious and benevolent works ; she entered into their pur- 
suits with the activity of her character ; and she listened 
with interest to the religious truth brought before her, until 
her heart felt its powerful claim. But here, alas ! the school- 
room training, aided by natural disposition, did its hindering 
part again ! Anastasia’s energetic mind, habituated to ac- 
tive exercise alone — to the exclusion of all that was purely 
contemplative, did but barely enter the precincts of each in- 
finite truth • she did not, like Antonia, lose herself in them, 


38 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


but, recognizing and acknowledging them, she passed by to 
the works of mercy, rather than on to the divine heart of 
charity. She heard of district visitors, of Sunday-schools 
assembled and taught, she made constant inquiries, noted 
down plans and regulations, copied cards, and took down 
titles of books, until she returned home with her parents, at 
the end of the season, prepared to arouse the whole village ; 
which, with no receptacle for learning except a dame’s school 
encouraged by her father, now seemed to Anastasia all sleep- 
ing in folded ignorance. How far more hopeful her mission 
might have been had her early training been different! 
Anastasia had no conception of what it was to go forth into 
the length and breadth, the depth and height, of limitless 
truth and love ; and by so doing, evermore to enlarge her 
own mind, and deepen her own heart, until her whole life re- 
flected Heaven in every part. Instead of this, she drew in 
enough of divine truth’s vital air to breathe by, but devoted 
her every energy to the machinery of Christian work. On 
returning home, Anastasia obtained a grant from her* father 
of an unemployed laundry, the use of which had been given 
up on account of its distance from the house ; she also wrote 
in all directions for a mistress. Something of a census of 
the parish was taken by her, and certain days, and so many 
cottages a day, apportioned for regular visiting. At the 
time of Antonia’s arrival at her uncle’s residence, the whole 
parochial machinery was in full work ; and Anastasia as en- 
tirely occupied as in the days of her strictest school dis- 
cipline. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


83 


Mrs. North had made it a self-denying rule never to in- 
terrupt her children’s schoolroom pursuits ; and she now felt 
at a loss when invading the no less occupied life of her eldest 
daughter, the more so because Anastasia had attained the full 
tide of life’s energies, while her mother’s were gently, yet 
perceptibly, ebbing, as the tide of her advancing years flowed 
tbwards another shore. Mrs. North would often visit her 
daughter’s little studio, to see what opening there might be ; 
but she so generally found Anastasia out, or just going out, 
or preparing something that must be done before going out, 
that her mother did not find things inviting either to linger 
herself, or to propose a stroll or a drive in company. If Mrs. 
North had asked her daughter to accompany her, she would 
have obtained an instant assent; but the heart of a mother 
wants more than assent / it wants a spirit in waiting, rejoic- 
ing to attend at its side, and like the violet of the spring, to 
breathe all its fragrance beneath the sheltering tree at whose 
feet God has planted its home. But to secure this, children 
must not be trained in the selfish delusion, that to store their 
own minds with acquirement, is the first and chief object of 
their young life upon earth. 

Miss Keymer observed the deficiency in her pupil ; she 
would sometimes remark to Anastasia in the evening, ‘ Mrs. 
North has not been out this fine day.’ 

‘ 0, has she not ? she would if she had felt inclined ; papa 
is always delighted to go, with her.’ 

And so the hint fell to the ground. Alas ! good Miss 
Keymer, it was the mind, not the heart of your pupil you 


40 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


were bound down to cultivate, and scarce enough time did 
the day afford for that,*— English in its various departments ; 
French, German, and Italian; the sciences, and botany in 
particular; arithmetic, with some advance into Euclid; 
drawing, sketching, and water-colouring, which, together 
with the time occupied in dancing, and two hours daily at 
the pianoforte, and another hour at the harp, was about as 
much as the week could accommodate. Apastasia had not 
indeed perfected herself in all these branches of education ; 
but she had gone as far towards their attainment as duty 
and diligence could carry her ; and having done so, she 
now unreluctantly took leave of them all, and divided her 
time into sections for practical purposes. 

Clara was now Miss Keymer’s eldest pupil, and her pro- 
ficiency in every line of schoolroom application already out- 
stripped her elder sister’s. Clara mastered every difficulty, 
and worked out every subject, by dint of unrelenting pains- 
taking. Her mind opened to receive all, but having done 
so, it instantly collapsed— either as the only means of retain- 
ing its stores of acquirement, or as the natural re-action of 
extreme temporary distention ; the consequence of this, of 
course, was, that all the free play of thought and imagina- 
tion was hopelessly buried ; the mind had been constantly 
receiving so much from without, that no possible space was 
left for its own intellectual nature to expand and develope 
itself from within. It is not possible now to say what Clara 
might have been under different training ; but judging from 
her capabilities and naturally unselfish nature, it may be 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


41 


supposed she might have been a bright girl, with light step, 
and free springing thoughts of her own, well informed and 
companionable to all ; whereas now she was literally a mere 
mass of acquirement. If her father came in weary, and 
wanted a little refreshment in converse, Clara might be 
there ; but she had a book in her hand, and looked too mueh 
engrossed, for his weariness to attempt interrupting her. 
Or her mother was leaning over her ottoman of wools, vainly 
trying to match the colour she wanted; Clara might be 
there — but too intently occupied with her pursuit to see that 
her mother looked tired with the search. Clever in meeting 
any point of research, kind-hearted in responding to any 
personal want, but all general companionableness of nature 
hopelessly lost. Often did her mother keenly, though si- 
lently, feel the difference between Clara’s heart and Anto- 
nia’s, when, as Clara gradually emerged from the school- 
room, Mrs. North would invite her out for a walk or a drive, 
and Clara would answer, ‘Yes, mamma, if you like me to 
go ! ’ but Antonia, if the question fell on her, would spring 
up with a beaming ‘ 0 yes, I should like it so much ! ’ ‘We 
cannot change character,’ Mrs. North would think silently, 
but she failed to consider that character, not acquirement, 
is the first object of all rightly directed education. Place 
Antonia where you would, if her spirit were not burdened 
or oppressed, she would in a greater or less degree find 
pleasure and gather interest — every pore was open, every 
faculty awake. Clara, from her childhood fettered to ac- 
quirement in certain fixed lines, had no universally receptive 


42 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


power ; much that was ever freshly returning enjoyment to 
Antonia, was a blank to her — but the fault was not her 
)wn. 

‘ Why do you not walk oftener with your cousins, An- 
5onia?’ General North asked one day. ‘Their regular 
w^alks would be good for you.’ 

‘ I should like to walk with them, uncle, but they always 
learn botany then.’ 

‘ And why do not you learn it with them ? A hedgerow, 
instead of a primer, I should have thought would be perfec- 
aon for you.’ 

‘ Yes, so it would, uncle, only not botany.’ 

‘ And why not botany, I wonder ? ’ 

‘ 0, I like to know every flower in its life and its beauty; 
I like to know when it comes and when it goes, and to see 
where it likes best to grow ; but not to pull it to pieces to 
tell how its form is put together.’ 

‘ Then you care nothing for the wonderful arrangement 
of Nature, for orders and classes ? ’ 

‘ Yes, uncle, I care for the fact; but when I look at the 
wild flowers, it is their beauty, their fragrance I love; they 
often make me happy when but for them I must have been 
sorrowful. 0 ! I am so glad they don’t all grow in those 
wonderful classes side by side in the woods.’ 

‘ What harm if they did ? ’ 

‘ No harm, uncle ; only I like to know that they don’t’ 

‘ But why ? ’ 

‘ Only because then, I think, God who made them, and 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


43 


knows wliere each one is springing, though He made them in 
beautiful order, did not put them all in classes together, and 
so one can never get tired in thinking about them, because 
they are scattered in such wild and endless variety.’ 

‘Well, well, little girl, I don’t know about botany my- 
self j I am very much of the opinion that, in too many in- 
stances, the heart loses as much as the mind gains, when it 
exchanges delighted contemplation for curious inquiry. But 
Anastasia told me the other day that you never went out 
with your cousins when they studied the heavens, caring 
nothing for astronomy ? ’ 

It was always an effort to Antonia to plead for any point 
that involved hidden associations of feeling, the allusion to 
her cousin Anastasia brought no help in her need, and to add 
the stars to the wild flowers was a long contest for her ; but, 
only changing colour for a moment, she held firmly on. 

‘ I am afraid no one could forgive my not loving astron- 
omy, uncle ; but I never did like to learn it.’ 

‘ You like to believe the moon no larger than a plate ? 
and that the sun most certainly revolves round the earth ? ’ 

‘ 0 no, uncle ; I would not, for all the world, not have 
known the great facts which astronomy reveals, for their 
awful magnificence ; but I do love to feel the stars near in 
the blue sky. I have watched so often for their shining 
down upon me, and could not bear to have to think of mil- 
lions of millions of miles ! ’ 

‘ And why not ? It makes it only the greater wonder 
that you see them at all ? ’ 


44 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ Yes, uncle ; but it is not the wonder^ it is the comfort 
that I love, of looking up to their heavenly light.’ 

^ What use can the comfort be, built on a fallacy ? You 
are happy for thinking them near, when all the time you 
know they are as far off as ever astronomy declared them 1 ’ 

‘ I know that miles must be miles upon earth, uncle ; but 
I think that perhaps they are not up above ; it seems as if 
angel- wings were not long in flying, and, therefore, perhaps 
distance may be all lessened up there, if motion be so swift ! 
and so I don’t want to learn all those numbers of distance, 
nor all that is only material of those glorious worlds, which 
we cannot tell the heavenly beauty and gladness of here, 
except by looking up to them with our eyes ! ’ 

* Well, well, little girl ! I hold there is often as much 
philosophy in true feeling, as in any absolute deductions 
from facts ; and though I glory in astronomy as the most 
magnificent of the sciences, I would not break in on your 
fancies ; so you may live on, with your wild-flowers below, 
and your bright stars above I ’ — And the child went away in 
a sunbeam. 

One anxious thought had long been buried deep in 
Antonia’s heart. The Bible, so honoured in the home of 
her childhood, was never seen by her in the mansion now 
sheltering her youth. Vainly had she looked around, and 
as vainly listened for any passing words that might prove 
it was hidden in the heart. Little could she dream that 
her aunt was already, day after day, looking down on the 
sacred page in secret, lured on to its study, by the light it 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE, 


45 


had diffused over her own young life, — this she could not 
discern. Neither had she recognised her eldest cousin, 
Anastasia, as one who walked by the law of the Lord. In 
Anastasia there was but little of the self-denying love, the 
meekness, and gentleness of those who walk in the spirit of 
the Divine Son of Man. Her parochial efforts were a pur- 
suit agreeable to the natural temperament of her character, 
they did not, therefore, involve much self-denial. In her 
home, where abundant opportunity was afforded for the real 
exercise of unselfish feeling, it was so rarely practised, as not 
even to be expected from her ; Anastasia must be left un- 
hindered in her own plans, and undisturbed in her own way, 
or more discomfort than benefit was sure to be the result. 
It was by Anastasia that the cold, harsh judgment, or the 
cutting remark, was uttered ; and on no one did it fall so 
often as on Antonia. The cause of this seemed to be a 
secret jealousy of the love Antonia won from all around. 
Little could such a spirit as Anastasia’s conceive the suffer- 
ing it inflicted, not for the moment alone, but sometimes 
leaving long-troubled remembrance, bringing the cloud over 
Antonia’s bright brow, and wrong feelings to her heart ; but 
the still deeper and abiding effect was to keep the orphan 
close clinging to Him who ‘ gathereth the lambs with his 
arm, and carrieth them in his bosom j ’ the well-spring of 
his love, and the dew of His blessing, kept her spirit un- 
broken and buoyant, like the nautilus on the ocean wave. 
Without doubt Anastasia wished her own life to be, and be- 
lieved that it was, a transcript of the Divine precepts ; but 


46 


THE MINISTBY OP LIFE. 


Antonia was as yet too little acquainted with such defaced 
resemblances to Heaven to be able to recognise Anastasia, 
and, therefore, her sorrow grew deeper, that in the family of 
her adoption the Bible seemed unrecognised, unhonoured, 
unloved. 

At length, taking courage from the kindness with which 
her uncle had talked with her of the flowers and the stars, 
she ventured one day to carry her own little Bible to the 
study, and taking the stool on which she read German at his 
side, she said earnestly, * I read so many beautiful books to 
you, uncle, but I never read with you the most beautiful of 
all ! May I read a chapter of the Bible with you every- 
day ?’ 

Her uncle looked displeased : ‘ No, Antonia : you read 
with me for the improvement of your mind : the Bible is a 
book of devotion ! ’ 

‘ 0 uncle, indeed it is not only devotion ! it is every- 
thing that is beautiful — all in this one book.’ 

‘ I hold it to be a devotional book for the closet, An- 
tonia ; and if I am wrong in my belief, I am too old to go to 
school now and learn differently.’ 

‘ 0 no, uncle, not too old ! it says the angels desire to 
look into these things, and we know they have lived thou- 
sands of years ! ’ 

'I cannot answer for the angels, Antonia; but I have 
told you my belief, and therefore let me have no more re- 
quests on that subject.’ 

Heavily fell the denial on the young heart whose hopes 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


47 


and fears had long trembled intensely for the relatives so 
dear to its affections. Had it not been that the peace ot 
God sustains every spirit that suffers in witnessing for His 
will, Antonia could hardly have gone through the reading of 
that day. Her uncle was cold and distant in manner that 
day and many days ; the heroism of the appeal was too high 
and too deep for his penetration — unlighted by Heaven — to 
estimate ; little did he think, or could he tell, that the love, 
the strength, the convictions of the young spirit at his side, 
had been concentrated in that long-contemplated, long- 
prepared-for effort ! He had turned away — it seemed to 
have been fruitless ; but it was not — ^it could not be lost — 
there is a record on high I And a silent effect is often left 
where all may seem in vain, which in after time may lend 
its force to fresh influences, combining with them to a blessed 
result. 

Antonia could not fail to feel intensely her uncle’s 
chilled manner. Clara remarked it to Anastasia, who re- 
plied that she had long been expecting her father to dis- 
cover that a child indulged in every fancy was not one to 
prove absolute perfection in the end ! Little Leonore felt 
it, and was always, when she could, getting silently close to 
Antonia’s side. Miss Keymer saw it, and was sorry. But 
a deepened tenderness in Mrs. North’s tone and manner fell 
on Antonia, not shown to any one else ; Antonia felt it, but 
knew not why it was given. The child bore on with all her 
loving and lovely attentions to her uncle, and to each one, 
until at length the cloud rolled away, and left the sunshine 


48 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


around her, warm and bright as before ; her character only 
deepened and strengthened by the struggle of feeling and 
effort which her young spirit had passed through. 

‘ To-morrow is Antonia’s birthday,’ Clara whispered to 
her father, as the third autumn of Antonia’s residence in her 
uncle’s family drew on.’ 

*'A good prompter!’ said her father, looking down 
pleased on Clara, who, having imparted the information 
which she thought might prove a pleasure, was again lost in 
the angles of a mathematical problem. 

‘ Best of happiness and long life to you, little girl I * 
said her uncle at first sight of Antonia the next morning, 
‘ fifteen years to-day 1 I am right, am I not ? ’ 

‘ Yes, uncle,’ said Antonia, as she threw her arms round 
his neck. 

* We will keep the day with an adventure,’ continued 
General North, ‘ you and I will have a holiday for once / 
I have ordered old Blenheim to be brought out with a side- 
saddle for you 1 ’ 

Antonia looked delighted; but Mrs. North exclaimed, 
‘ You surely are not in earnest ? You will not think of put- 
ting the child on that impetuous old war-horse ? ’ 

* 0, trust me, my dear; it is only when Blenheim wants 
to persuade you that he and his master are young enough for 
service again, that he chafes at the bit and gets up his spirit 
a little I Let Antonia see what he will say to the rein in 
her hand, and I will look to her safety.’ 

General North had once reckoned on always finding com- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


49 


panions in his children. Anastasia and Clara had both been 
early trained to ride at his side, but as they grew older, he 
had so seldom found them ready to accompany him, that he 
had parted with their horse in vexation. The fact was, that 
the General would never regulate his rides by schoolroom 
hours. Miss North often said, ‘ Eeally I should have been 
most happy to ride with, papa, if I could have been sure of 
the time of returning ; but it always depends on the fancy 
papa may take at the time. I assure you he is always seeing 
some point in the distance that reminds him of some scene in 
his Peninsular wars, or some other association as far-fetched, 
and off we go such a chase after these resemblances, which 
generally are not the least like when we reach them, so that 
I have been out sometimes three hours, when I had only ar- 
ranged for one ; and then everything gets put out of the way, 
and all for a mere fancy of the moment ! ’ 

The same reason made it a rare event for Clara to be 
spared from the schoolroom ; and the often ill-concealed feel- 
ing of inconvenient haste for return, quite destroyed the in- 
terest to their father. But Antonia had no fetters to bind 
her j and this long and wild wandering no one knew where, 
could not fail to be the very thing to delight her, and to give 
her fresh vigour in mind and body. 

Antonia and old Blenheim were not strangers. General 
North often looked in at his stables and invited his children 
to go with him j only Antonia and the little Leonore went 
now. Antonia had from the first made Blenheim her favour- 
ite, and his full fiery eye always turned at the sound of her 
3 


N 


50 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


voice ; she liked to stand by, and feed and stroke him, and 
think of the wonderful scenes he had passed through, bearing 
her brave uncle so often where death environed them both j 
but a far deeper throb often rushed faint through her 
heart, as she stood by the old war-horse, for it was on 
Blenheim that the vain attempt had been made by her 
uncle to rescue her father ! And now it was her birthday, 
and Blenheim stood saddled for her. Her uncle held the 
rein. 

‘ Remember, little girl, old Blenheim’s a war-horse, and 
if you show any fear, you will never ride him again ; he has 
carried none but the brave, and he would soon help a coward 
* to the ground ! ’ 

Antonia greeted Blenheim with her own voice and hand ; 
he returned the caresses by arching his neck and pawing 
the ground : then, springing up lightly, she took the rein and 
was ready. 

Now at length the Gleneral had found the free compan- 
ionship in which he delighted. To give chase to every fancy , 
to listen to the record of every association ; to hear of heroes 
who fell for their country, and of the touching incidents that 
the life of the warrior unfolds, possessed a ceaseless charm 
for Antonia. Her mind had acquired the power of concen- 
trating its interest on the object before her ; if Nature only, 
she was lost in earth and sky ; if congenial companionship, 
she shed on it the light .of her own rejoicing spirit; if any 
talked with her, she forgot herself in their theme, and gave 
reply not in surface assent, but from the depth of a reflect- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


51 


ing judgment or deep-rooted feeling. When she read, the 
same entireness of attention was fixed on the record, until 
the spirit of all the written lore that she loved blended itself 
so entirely with her spirit, that knowledge in her seemed not 
borrowed, but rather as having fed the reservoir of her own 
refiective mind, from thence fiowing forth in native streams, 
which bore freshness and pleasure to others. That which 
her young spirit had drunk of most deeply, was the pure 
truth of Divine inspiration. Long had she looked down into 
the depths of humiliation there revealed — long gazed upward 
into the heaven of glory there opened — long pondered on the 
sublime conceptions and historic facts there unfolded in ma? 
jestic simplicity, until the temple of Divine truth had become 
her spirit’s home. There she wandered freely as the child 
Samuel in the holy place at Shiloh ; and when she looked upon 
any truth, as yet hidden from her understanding, she still 
waited in spirit at “ the posts of its doors,” until they un- 
closed before her and she entered in. Sometimes it was but 
a few minutes, sometimes months or years, that she waited 
expecting, but still evermore it did unfold before her, and 
she with assurance entered in. 

This secret life of deep communion formed her, not as 
into a servant — acting in obedience to a sense of duty, but 
a child, breathing freely the air of the Divine home of her 
eternal adoption. Its light beamed from her eyes, its joy 
flowed from her lips, its love glowed in her life, and its truth 
gave an elevation to her thoughts, words, and feelings — sim- 
ple, childlike, and natural ; in the faint likeness of her sin- 


52 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


fallen humanity to His, who knew no sin, and whose spirit 
breathes harmony even from chords discordant in the souls 
where He abides, she grew in “ wisdom and in stature, and 
in favour with God and man.” 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE 


53 


CHAPTEE IV. 

In the following spring Leonore’s pale looks made her 
parents anxious. The doctor said she would be the better 
for giving up all application of mind for a time, and getting 
the bracing of the sea air. Mrs. North was also glad her- 
self of the strengthening change ; so Leonore was taken by 
her parents to the sea. 

The little girl wandered the greater part of the day 
upon the silver sands, picking up the shells, and watching 
the sea-birds poising their snowy wings, and lighting down 
to feed ; or she sat upon the shingle, listening to the mur- 
mur of the waves as they broke upon the shore. The child 
had no resources within herself ; she might have had, but 
they had never been called out; her young life had been 
spent in taking in, with no giving forth, and now that her 
animal spirits flagged, from the over-pressure of the school- 
room, her life, in this temporary relaxation, was of a very 
negative character. Her thoughts seemed to have only one 
definite direction, for when her father fancied that he traced 
some positive exercise of mind in her face, and said, ‘A 
silver sixpence for your thoughts, my little unfledged linnet,’ 


54 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


the answer invariably was, ‘ I was only thinking of An- 
tonia ! ’ That orphaned heart, with its own bright power 
unselfish love, and unfettered freedom, had already become 
a rallying point to many a heart around it, almost ere its 
childhood had deepened into youth. Why had the little 
Leonore no spring of thought, grave or gay, as the case 
might be? Why had she no ready power and watchful 
eye for all the ceaseless and gentlest courtesies of life, so 
lovely when they cluster in bright blossoms on the tender 
spray of childhood ? Why must her days of relaxation be 
a mental and moral negation, instead of only a varied 
channel of cultivation ? The answer would prove the key 
to unlock many a young mind and heart, whose early fra- 
grance, whose childhood’s power to bless, is shut up and 
lost, because the ol^ious question is unasked, or its easy 
answer undiscovered. 

‘ It is ten thousand pities we did not bring Antonia ! 
The poor little fish is out of water away from her school- 
room ; you and I are too old for her ; Antonia would have 
given her spirits ! ’ Mrs. North agreed with the General, 
but the distance was an obstacle in the way of any altera- 
tion of arrangement; so Leonore had her parents and the 
ocean to herself alone. 

But as the weeks passed on there came a time when a 
change passed over all things to the child on the sea-shore. 
Not finding Leonore improve, Mrs. North wished to try the 
sea-bathing for her, apd the General used all his powers 
of observation in selecting the most promising of the bath- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


55 


iDg-women ; she was of middle age, tall, bony, and brisk. 
Betty Briggen’s first look on the child was like the sun- 
beam that, at the same moment, was playing on the rough 
features of the craggy point that towered above the sands 
where they stood. ‘ Poor bit of a morsel 1 she’ll have more 
flesh and blood to show off than that, when Betty Briggen 
has tossed her a few dozens of times in the salt sea. I’ll 
engage ! Come along, my little dear ; we three will soon 
be the best friends together 1 ’ ‘We three ’ meant Betty 
Briggen, the ocean, and the child ; and the prophecy proved 
true ; every day brought new vigour to Leonore ; the ocean 
became the most delightful of playfellows, and Betty Brig- 
gen a most refreshing companion. 

Betty Briggen was one of those bright characters who, 
instead of weighing how much they must do, are always 
ready to do all that they can ; she did not measure out 
her time and her strength by avoirdupois weight, but suf- 
fered it to flow freely, according to the estimate given in 
by her kind true heart of the demands of the case before 
her. This native generosity is sometimes said not to an- 
swer, because there are always those who are ready to take 
an ungenerous advantage of it; and if the question were 
between human hearts alone, it is probable that the more 
selfish calculation would prove the most expedient; but 
happily it is not so left, and as long as it is written, 
“ With the same measure that ye mete withal, it shall be 
measured to you again,” we may be quite sure that, in 
some way or other, the most generous nature will be the 
largest receiver. 


66 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


Betty Briggen was delighted to perceive the success of 
her professional exertions for the child, and extended her 
efforts in every direction. In her unengaged hours she led 
her up the high cliffs, by little winding paths known well 
to the dwellers on the shore } she led her to the creeks to 
catch crabs ; and to the sands, to which they waded with- 
out shoes and stockings, for scuttle-fish ; she hastened up, 
when a heavy tide was ebbing, to fetch the child to hunt 
for amber, and was continually receiving and entertaining 
her at their cabin. Bill, the husband of Betty, was a fine 
fresh-hearted sailor, carrying on the fishing trade to a con- 
siderable extent on that shore; and Leonore was never 
tired of sitting in his boat listening to his tales of the 
watery deep. At length, one soft summer evening, when 
the sea’s green expanse was only waved by the ripple that 
flowed on, falling gently back from the shore. Bill Briggen 
protested that it was a shame to sit there, as if there were 
no salt sea to sail on ; and now, when the ocean lay as still 
as the land, he would just catch up an oar, and give Leonore 
a waft of the breeze that lay lagging on shore, but would 
blow ten times as fresh when they had rowed out to a few 
fathoms of sea. Leonore, and her good friend the bath- 
woman, hand in hand hastened back to the lodgings to 
present the request ; fortunately only General North was 
within, and having accompanied them back, and satisfied 
himself that all was likely to be as safe as the fisherman’s 
care and a calm summer evening could make it, he gave 
his ready consent to the venture. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


57 


Mrs. North was not a little disquieted at the permission 
the General had given; it was not alone the danger of 
trusting the child out at sea, with a fearless fisherman 
and his wife, but the apprehension of what might be the 
effect of all this familiar association with a grade of society 
so low as the poor fisherman’s must be ! General North 
responded with earnestness of feeling, ‘ Do trust to my 
judgment for once during this breach in the schoolroom ! 
I believe this perfect freedom will prove the saving of the 
child, not only in health but in character ! Trust me, 
there is more of real value to be gathered, very often, in 
familiar intercourse with the cottage, than the mansion. 
In the homes of our peasantry the child finds life as it is, 
with no tricking out of fashion or outside of flattery; it 
is the real life that there becomes familiar, with its strug- 
gles, and ventures, its soon satisfied necessities, its honest 
opinions, and true-hearted feelings. You possessed a natu- 
ral ascendancy of mind, that rendered you independent of 
circumstances, but our girls have not the same possession ; 
and unless you will allow Leonore to mingle freely, and 
blend herself with different circumstances and characters, 
you will have her, like her sisters, a counterpart of my 
best time-pieces — keeping time true enough, but having 
little to offer for refreshment or comfort ! ’ The General 
spoke quietly, but his deep-seated feeling of disappoint- 
ment was evident. Mrs. North replied that she had ar- 
ranged for Anastasia’s season in London as soon as her edu- 
cation had been finished. Anastasia certainly had had asso- 

3 # 


68 


THE MINISTBY OF LIFE. 


♦ 

ciation enough with different circumstances and characters, 
but it could not be said to have answered. The General 
again replied, ‘ Believe me, my dear, it is likely to prove a 
failure if you wait until this so-called education is finished ; 
you send them out then self-conscious young women, their 
characters neither enlarged, strengthened, nor softened by 
association with the varied circumstances that life opens to 
the estimation of the child. You wait until the most plastic 
time for the good effect of associations has passed by ; not 
lending them to it until they are in danger of being far 
more occupied with themselves than with others. You see 
what Anastasia and Clara are ; if we fix hours for their 
definite employment with us we are sure to have them, but 
as to their power or will to observe when a little free com- 
panionship might be agreeable, their minds are so entirely 
pre-occupied that they never think of it. And if they did, 
it would — from want of skill in ready adaptation — set on 
them like an ill-fitting garment, which disturbs you whether 
you will or no.’ Mrs. North remained sorrowfully silent, 
and the General said he would go and look out for Leonore. 

The father returned with the child, who rushed in 
glowing with life and delight, and laden with treasures 
from the deep ; with histories of porpoises really seen, and 
the silver-shelled nautilus looked for in vain, and the 
charges given to Bill Briggen, and his faithful promise, if 
he caught one in his net, to keep it for her; until Mrs. 
North smiled, and the General, with a hearty laugh, cried, 
Well done, little fishwoman I ’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


59 


There had been no shade left on that mother’s beautiful 
countenance when she welcomed back the father and child ; 
and yet there might have been if earth had been all ! for 
to have planned an education only for time, and then to 
have her plan thought all mistaken, and to have a secret 
misgiving at heart that it was so, and a certainty that its 
result was not happy ; even without one word of upbraid- 
ing, was trying to bear ; but when the General left to look 
for Leonore, Mrs. North’s thoughts reverted to Antonia; 
the loveliness of her young, self-forgetting life beamed on 
her heart’s warm remembrance, and she went to her cham- 
ber, and turned to the Prophets — inseparably linked in her 
thoughts with Antonia. She did not think she found much 
for herself ; but the water of life descends on the spirit that 
submits itself to its influence, like the dew — silent and un- 
perceived it may be, but lo ! freshness is there where all 
felt dry and withered before, Mrs. North had reached the 
verse in the Prophet Hosea, Then shall we know, if we 
follow on to know the Lord,” and was pondering upon it, 
when she heard the happy child asking for her mamma. 
Mrs. North closed the Bible, and met the child at her door. 

So from that day the little Leonore was a sailor. Her 
new wild life was delightful. She listened, close sheltered 
at Betty Briggen’s side, to the fisherman’s long tales ; he 
sang for her, out at sea, his wild songs, Uhe rare best’ 
that he knew. Leonore sang hers in return, and her tremu- 
lous voice, released from the fear of being out of time or of 
tune, blended freely with murmuring breakers and breezes, 


60 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


until it gained expansion and strength. Her new friends 
were not wanting in knowledge, — the fruit of their simple 
observation of nature, and faithful record of facts. And 
Leonore knew tales of the battle-field and the camp, which 
she had heard from her father ; the fisherman declared he 
had never, in all his lifetime before, known so much of what 
was done by the landsmen ! And when Leonore told of her 
brave Uncle Percy, and her father’s vain efibrt to save him ; 
and of Antonia, his child, whom they all loved so dearly ; 
and Antonia's certainty that her father was in Heaven, 
because he loved the Bible more than all things on earth, 
Bill Briggen wiped away a falling tear, and said he wished 
enough they could get a Bible to look to, for without that 
he could no way tell how they should ever get up where 
such a gentleman was gone ! Day after day the child felt 
as free as the birds on the sea and the shore, beneath the 
ministering kindliness of the fisherman and his wife. Now, 
for the first time since she entered the schoolroom, did she 
know what it was to be perfectly unfettered and unburdened. 
It was liberty of body and mind. No reproof for awkward 
movement, or necessity to correct every inaccurate expres 
sion ; and the tension caused by the terrible array of lesson- 
books, pianofortes, drawing-boards, globes, slates, and com- 
position in a small way of themes, all melted away in one 
bright, healthful delight, in earth, sea, and sky. 

Miss Keymer felt herself very much at liberty without 
her youngest pupil, and in her kindness she ai§ked Antonia 
whether she could render any assistance in her studies, 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


61 


during General North’s absence. Antonia met the offer 
most thankfully, and her request was actually for instruc- 
tion in French ! 

‘ Without the syntax, I suppose ? ’ said Miss Keymer, 
with a smile ; but Antonia was ready now to attempt all its 
difficulties. So the compact was settled, and each day saw 
Antonia with her cloudless brow, in the schoolroom, with 
Miss Keymer and Clara, in full pursuit of the acquirement 
of French. 

‘ If there be anything else in which you would like my 
help, you had better ask me now, while I have so good an 
opportunity,’ again said that kind-hearted Miss Keymer. 

* I hardly like to ask you,’ replied Antonia, ‘ but there 
is one thing I should so like to try, only I am afraid it might 
be troubling you in vain.’ 

‘ Never mind that, we can but try it ; what is it ? ’ 

‘ When I watch the trees I often fancy I could draw 
them, if I might only begin with them just as they are, just 
as I have loved them ever since I can remember ? ’ 

* Draw from Nature, my dear, with no knowledge of per- 
spective, or practice from copies ! I am afraid, indeed, you 
have no idea of the difficulty ! ’ 

* I am afraid not, and I should be so sorry to give you 
trouble in vain ! but I should not mind any difficulty, try- 
ing at what I love ! ’ 

‘Well, then, I am sure you shall try; you had better 
find out some old trunk of a tree to begin with.’ 


62 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ 0 no, not anything dead ! I should like to draw a tree 
in its beauty, with all it has of life I ’ 

* Very well, you can but try; perhaps you have chosen a 
tree to begin with ? ’ 

* Yes, the tree I long most of all to draw is that noble 
old beech, my uncle’s chief favourite ; if you will go with me, 
I shall be so glad ! I will not tell any one except Clara, for 
fear I should not succeed.’ 

^ You would not like to confess to a failure — is it so ? ’ 

‘ No, I don’t think that was the feeling that made me 
wish to keep it secret ; but I will make sure by settling that 
if I have to give it up I will tell all about it I ’ 

‘ Very well, my dear, I am quite satisfied to be bound 
over to secresy, if possible ; but I fear Miss North will find 
us out ! ’ 

The next day saw Antonia seated at Miss Keymer’s 
side, in full view of the favourite old beech tree. 

Antonia gazed and gazed upon the tree, as if she ex- 
pected the inspirations that call forth the lay of the poet 
to glide through her fingers, in the likeness of the object 
before her. 

Miss Keymer gave a little instruction to her pupil, but 
Antonia, again looking up, still gazed on the tree. 

‘ Now, my dear, you cannot look your drawing into 
existence ! ’ 

‘ No, I will begin and try; but oh, how beautiful it is ! 
those light green leaves, filled with sunbeams, look as if they 
were the only veil between us and Heaven I ’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


63 


Miss Keymer would have said, ‘ Between us and the 
sky;’ and the depth of feeling with which Antonia breathed 
out ‘ Heaven ’ arrested her attention. Antonia, still riveted 
by the radiance and beauty before her, as if again forgetting 
her drawing, added earnestly, ‘ Oh Miss Keymer, when one 
lo oks up to Heaven in such s unshine, it seems sad to have 
to wait still on earth for the clouds to come back again j 
only once an old man told me there was more growth in the 
cloudy weather than the bright, so the thought of that has 
^made me thankful for sorrow ! ’ 

Miss Keymer had known sorrow; bereavements and 
losses had clouded her life ; she had borne them as a neces- 
sity and a duty ; but no lips had ever before, in her hear- 
ing, breathed ‘ thankfulness for sorrow ; ’ the words fell 
on her heart ; but it was not a subject on which she felt 
prepared to converse, so she continued silent, and Antonia, 
looking down on the paper, began her attempt on the tree. 

Day after day the attempt was renewed; it was long 
before the monarch of the beech-wood stood erect on An- 
tonia’s drawing-board ; and for a considerable time longer its 
foliage either stuck on, or fell forlorn and languid away; but 
by the time of her uncle’s return a huge copy of his favourite 
tree was produced, bearing sufficient resemblance to be recog- 
nised at sight. 

Anastasia had not failed to inquire, ‘Where is Miss 
Keymer ? ’ on missing her from the schoolroom. 

Clara replied, ‘ Gone to the woods with Antonia.’ 

‘ 0, indeed ! Miss Keymer seems to be everything now; 




64 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


I really must say if I had been laid on the shelf as Miss 
Keymer was, I should have felt it a duty to myself to be 
a little less easy in meeting every after demand ! ’ But the 
secret of the tree standing for its picture remained undis- 
covered. 

When Antonia had once begun her drawing she returned 
to it every day with all the vivid interest of her young, ardent 
spirit ; and, except a passing exclamation now and then, as 
she proceeded, no more gushing thoughts preluded her em- 
ployment. Yet sometimes Miss Keymer caught the glance 
of the child’s fathomless eyes, as they looked up to Heaven ; 
and she silently pondered on what the secret could be which 
so linked that young heart to the skies ; she would not have 
been sorry if Antonia had of her own accord spoken out her 
feelings again, for Miss Keymer bore no shield of pride ; she 
was literally, “ swift to hear, slow to speak.” Accomplished 
and well-informed, she possessed also a native refinement of 
mind, which alone is worth the whole array of mere mental 
acquirement, in those who train the young ; she knew her 
position to be a subordinate one, and did not desire to step 
out of it ; always occupied with others rather than herself, 
she had won the settled regard and respect of every member 
of the family and household. Keligion she looked upon as a 
divine formula, to which she was to endeavour to conform 
her spirit and life ; to the will of the Divine Being, it was 
her duty to submit ; and through His mercy she aspired to 
His Heaven hereafter. Since Miss North’s visit to London, 
Miss Keymer had observed that it was her practice to read 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


65 


the Bible for a certain time every morning ; it was a fact 
that won Miss Keymer’s respect, though it awoke no longing 
to participate ; but the depth of Antonia’s young voice, 
when she breathed out the word ‘ Heaven,’ and the look 
that she sometimes raised to the sky, clung to Miss Keymer, 
and left the abiding conviction that the child had a secret 
which she knew not. 

And now the last week of the sea-side sojourn had 
arrived. General North had acted as generously towards 
Leon ore’s friends as his liberality was sure to dictate ; but 
he also wished Leonore to leave with them some parting 
token of her own kind and grateful feeling. 

‘ Well, my little Linnet, I am thinking what present you 
would like to leave with Betty Briggen and her husband, in 
remembrance of you.’ 

‘ 0 papa, may I give something, and whatever I like ? ’ 

* Something you certainly may, but whatever you like is 
a considerable addition ! Have you been thinking of any- 
thing ? ’ 

‘ I should like, papa, best of all, to give them a Bible,’ 

^ A Bible, little innocent ! they would not thank you for 
that ! There is but small chance they can read ; and fish- 
ermen and bathing-women don’t care about books I ’ 

‘ 0 yes, papa, indeed they would ! Bill Briggen said ho 
wished he had a Bible ; and I know he can read, because 
Betty showed me some old bits of newspapers which, she 
said, some visitors gave them last summer, and her husband, 
she said, was aluays spelling them over to her.’ 


66 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


General North thought that Leonore had got hold of a 
curious collection of facts ; his own idea was that Leonore 
should present them with a time-piece to hang on their cabin 
walls ; butj in his kindness, he decided that they would pay 
a visit to the cabin together, and endeavour to find out 
which would really be most welcome, the time-piece or the 
Bible ; and Mrs. North expressed her wish to accompany 
them. 

Leonore was in high spirits as she ran on into the cabin, 
where her little fairy form was the brightest vision it had 
seen since it first was upreared. There was a considerable 
stir within at hearing that madam was coming, and a chair, 
two or three times dusted, was set for her reception. 

‘Well, my good friends,’ said the General, ‘we are come 
to take leavej as for that little maid she is almost half yours 
by this time ! I don’t know how long she will take to for- 
get the sea and her friends ! ’ 

‘ 0 papa, I shall never forget ! I only wish Antonia 
could come, and we stay here all the summer ! ’ 

‘ Well, well, I am sure we all have reason to remember 
the kindness shown. I wish to know whether you don’t 
find it a terrible want to be without a time-piece of any de- 
scription ? — I mean a clock or watch.’ 

‘ Ah, your honour,’ said Bill, as the General’s meaning 
lightened upon him, ‘ you see we poor folk live with Nature, 
where the gentry live with Art; and you see, sir, to the 
poor man, ’tis Nature’s own finger is always pointing the 
time ; every slant of the sunbeams, as they mark out the 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. G7 

shadows, every ripple of the wave as it flows on the shore, 
and the line of wet sand where it falls, the stars floating 
up above, and the first light of the dawn — there’s no mis- 
take in them, for if I reckon right ’tis them as makes the 
time.’ 

‘But your wife, she must get behindhand, sometimes, 
with no clock to keep her in mind ? ’ 

Here Betty answered for herself, ‘ I’ll just beg your 
pardon, sir, but if a gentleman can be mistaken, it’s just 
certain you are in that, for Betty Briggen never stepped 
behind time in her life ! There is one of our women lives 
out yonder there, — you can see where by the smoke whiff, — 
she’s got a right up clock, it struck the hour she was born 
and every hour since, and yet she is always a lagging — 
keeping gentlefolks waiting, and when they tell her ’tis late, 
she says ’twas early by her ! ’ ‘By you, indeed ! ’ says I, 
‘ and pray what are you to be after setting down all nature 
for wrong, because your old bit of leaded cord gets lazy in 
heaving up itself to its measure ? Trust me,’ says I, ‘ for 
ever selling my senses for a striker, that has none ! — So I 
gave it her ! She’ll never keep true time — ^that’s certain • 
but ’twas the last of her setting up against Nature 1 ’ 

The fisherman and his wife had so entirely maintained 
the General’s favourite assertion — that observation was the 
surest inlet of knowledge, that he could freely forgive all 
the disparagement thrown on every species of clock-work, 
save Nature’s own finger, as she ceaselessly arrested her 
children’s attention to the progress of time. But now, 

« 


68 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


having nothing left to offer, he looked to Leonore, and said 
with a smile, ‘Your papa is fairly done for; you must try 
your fancy now ! ’ 

Leonore understood, and, childlike, she began with no 
round about investigations, such as honestly belong to the 
materials of time, but went straight to the mark, as was 
worthy of the tl^ji^s that are eternal. Looking up to Bill 
Briggen and his wife, she said, in a tone that seemed con- 
scious she was offering what they would consider the chief- 
est gift upon earth, ‘ Would you not like best of all to have 
a Bible?’ 

‘ Ah, dear ! ’ replied the old fisherman, that’s the hard- 
ship of poverty. I can tell your honour, if you’ll credit a 
poor man that never went far from the truth in his life, 
’tis not the dragging the rough seas, and coming home 
wringing wet, with no fish in the net ; ’tis not the scant 
morsel, nor the cold wintry cabin, — ^we as live along with 
Nature can put up with her usage, — but ’tis the look up 
above, and the want of a notion how to get there ! I often 
tell my old girl here, that I know well enough some rough 
winter’s night the old sea will be my grave ; ’tis not that 
I stand in dread of, — ’tis what a spirit may meet with if 
it gets the launch off from this shore with no notion, as I 
say, how to make for the other 1 ’ 

The General did not reply, for he could not ; but little 
Leonore exclaimed, ‘ Papa will give you a Bible ; indeed ho 
will ! ’ 

* Heaven bless his honour ! ’twill be the rarest gift that 

• 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


69 


ever my life will see. I take it there’s not so much as one 
in a cabin on this coast. I have got some scraps of papers 
which some gentlefolks gave me last summer.’ Bill brought 
out from a corner three or four blackened old tracts, which 
Leonore, unacquainted with such documents, had supposed 
to be pieces of newspaper. ‘ I have spelled them all over 
twenty times to my mis’es here, but^fcas one word in 
them that first grappled me, and I have never got clear 
from his hold. There, sir, your honour can read it: ’tis 
that word “ Eternity,” set up at the head of the whole. 
' Ah ! I has yet to hoist sail in them seas, and not a notion 
how to pilot ’em ! ’ 

‘ Your wish for a Bible shall soon be granted,’ replied 
the General ; * may it prove all the blessing you desire ! ’ 

When the Bible was purchased, Mrs. North wrote in it 
the names of the sailor and his wife, as a gift from Leonore, 
adding beneath the full address of their own residence; 
and giving the precious treasure to Leonore to carry alone, 
she desired her to tell the fisherman and his wife that if 
they were ever in any trouble they might write as to friends, 
who would do anything in their power to help them. The 
scene in the cabin was one passing description, when the 
fisherman and his wife, the child and the Bible, all met there 
for the first and the last time together. 

They started early for the long journey on the day of 
return. About four o’clock in the afternoon the beech- 
woods came in sight, then the house, then the door. 

‘ Antonia ! Oh, there is Antonia ! ’ was Leonore’s first 




70 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


exclamation of delight; and before the steps could be let 
down she was in Antonia’s embrace. Antonia gave one hug 
of delighted welcome to her uncle, as he alighted, and spring- 
ing in to her aunt in the carriage, threw her arms around her 
neck. Tenderly, closely, did Mrs, North fold the orphan to 
her heart; there was no questioning the love of that em- 
brace, or the depth of the kiss that she pressed on the child’s 
fair brow. Anastasia and Clara waited on the door-steps 
with an affectionate greeting. Within the door stood Miss 
Keymer, Mrs. North not only gave her her hand, but bent 
forward and kissed her. Sixteen years had Miss Keymer 
filled her place in General North’s family, with conscientious 
faithfulness, with retiring refinement, propriety, and cheer- 
fulness. Sixteen years had she received the respect and kind 
attentions of the whole household, but that first token of 
affection from its dignified mother made for her the happiest 
moment since she entered the house. Then, amidst the 
household rejoicing, the seniors, of whom Clara was now one, 
prepared for dinner, and the two children for tea with Miss 
Keymer. 

‘ 0 Miss Keymer, if you please let me go a little this 
beautiful evening with Antonia to the woods.’ 

‘ My dear, you have done quite enough for one day in 
taking all that long journey, you had better keep quiet this 
evening.’ 

Antonia assured Leonore that she did not want to go out, 
and would stay in with her ; but Leonore still pleaded, ‘ Do, 
pray do, let me go. Miss Keymer ! May I just ask mamma ? ’ 


» 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


71 


It was one peculiarity of Miss Keymer’s feeling that she 
never, on any occasion, refused a pupil’s request to appeal 
from her decision to a parent’s. On one occasion, when the 
result of such an appeal had cost her a good deal of annoy- 
ance, she was heard to say, that she would rather go through 
anything than deny that to a child. When the appeal was 
made under sentence of disgrace, she only stipulated that all 
should he told, leaving it then to the child’s right feeling and 
honour ; this generosity had its recompense ! Miss Keymer 
brself would have denied the earnest request in this in- 
since ; she was not quite without the feeling that it was an 
attract good occasionally to accustom children to receive a 
dnial of their wishes, for no very stringent reason, except 
tiat they might learn to take a denial ; — a serious mistake in 
itsilf, but rendered very harmless in Miss Keymer’s practice, 
becaiae of this always open safety-valve of appeal to a pa- 
rentd heart, whose will was requirement sufficient for all law- 
ful jbedience. Miss Keymer did not know by instinct that 
the young spirit sometimes pleads earnestly for that which at 
th0 moment may to others seem but a fancy, but which to 
deiiy may tell on a lifetime. But Mrs. North could under- 
stand the longing to go off at once with Antonia, and gave 
consent. 

There, in the bright glade, the children sat side by side, 
on the rustic bench which the gamekeeper had twisted for 
Antonia. Embosomed in the solitude of Nature, the little 
Leonore felt free to pour out her full heart. It was not of 
the ocean or the shore that she longed so to tell, but of her 


72 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


friends of the cabin, and the Bible. Antonia e 
arm around Leonore ; and as her young confidr companion 
told of her last visit to the cabin, when si • bore no* 
friends the blessed guide for Eternity, Antonia drew her 
closer to her side, until, at the conclusion, mg fervcntl-r 
the infant lips that had breathed forth a le so beauv i > , 
she exclaimed, ‘ 0 .Leonore ! dear Leonore, never yet gn e 
a Bible to any one ! ’ 

The child felt the happy individuality this dec! Tatioi 
from Antonia gave to that which had been ner first : antu e 
in the service of love, and it diffused a fresl courage thro^^^H 
her spirit. Then, after a few moments’ sih < 0 , in which he 
summer evening’s stillness around lay unbri^kei tc them^ 
entranced in thought and feeling, they hearu nev Ih . ; of 

the birds nor the music of the river below, Antonia 
down upon Leonore, still clinging to her sid( , coid, Sull we 
ask God to make the Bible to be the same ; o Bill Biigp- ^ 
and his wife that it was to dear papa ? ’ 

‘ Yes,’ answered Leonore, half doubting, half que^:' ug, 
for none had ever before invited her to ki eel in fre- •'iter- 
ance, as of children to their Father in Hea . Aqot ; ;r ; mo- 
ment, and the child of fifteen years with tl e tiild of v .m. 
knelt side by side on the soft mossy bank. There, in ' • 
ness of the first fall of the twilight, with the beec : i 3^ 
o’er-canopying their young uncovered he^e knne m 
their frocks of snowy white on the blue-bells stiT j 
the woods in that bright evening of June, they look 
Heaven, while Antonia breathed forth their suppL 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


73 


The orphan’s deepest thought was of the soldier on the bat- 
tle-field, Leonore’s of the seaman on the rough ocean wave, 
but in each heart both were blended, while the tears of en- 
treaty fell from their eyes. Then, rising, they lingered not 
for the last gleam of the sunbeam, or the light of the first 
silvery star, but hastened home, their hearts bound to each 
other in the love that is eternal. 

Before Leonore went to her slumber that evening, An- 
tonia privately showed her the large likeness of the beech- 
tree. Leonore had not yet attempted drawing from nature, 
and her astonishment was great at finding what Antonia had 
learned in the woods. Mahola, the housemaid, faithfully 
promised to awake Antonia before six o’clock the next morn- 
ing, which promise she faithfully performed. Soon after 
seven o’clock Antonia was in the library, where with Mahola’s 
assistance she hung up the long sheet over which the beech- 
tree extended. 

One by one, as all entered the room to the family break- 
fast, at eight o’clock. General North exclaimed, ‘ I am look- 
ing out for the guilty face : there is some one who has been 
j transplanting my best old beech-tree from the woods to my 
1 study, and I am determined to know who it is ! ’ 

' ‘ 0 papa ! papa ! ’ said Leonore, running in before An- 

i tonia, by way of diversion. 

‘ No, no, my little fishwoman, it is none of your doing; 
I you are a great deal too innocent for such a performance 
! yet. If it had been a nautilus sailing in a basin, I might have 
^ suspected you and Bill Briggen, but not in my beech-tree’s 
4 


{ 


74 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


removal. My dear,’ as Mrs. North entered, ‘ I am holding 
a court-martial ; pray come and assist me. Miss North ? ’ 

‘ I have not the least idea to what you are referring,’ 
Miss North replied dryly, at perceiving that something had 
been achieved without any communication with her. 

Well, well,’ replied her father, * you, at all events, look 
not guilty. Come, Clara, there is no one to prove culprit 
but you, and to show how you have pleased your old father 
by getting up this little surprise, you shall ask him any 
reasonable wish, and he will promise to grant it.’ 

Clara replied, * Indeed, papa, I wish I had done it 1 I 
amrsure I would have tried long ago if I had thought you 
would care so much for a copy of a tree you could see any 
day ! ’ 

All this unexpected turn was almost too much for poor 
Antonia, who went up to her uncle and said hurriedly, ‘ It 
was only kind Miss Keymer taught me drawing and French 
while you were away, imcle, and I just put it up to surprise 
you.’ 

‘ I must give the history, I think,’ said Miss Keymer, 
now taking up the subject, and telling, with a glow of feeling, 
the pains and the interest Antonia had taken in the hope ot 
surprising her uncle. 

‘Well, well, little girl,’ said the General, who saw that 
Antonia would not stand a great deal more, ‘you have 
surprised your old uncle indeed ; and he will keep you fast 
by his colours, and make you his aid-dc-camp some day — that 
he will ! and now come along, and bring in the tree.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


75 


‘ Very well done, my dear child,’ said Mrs. North : ‘ I shall 
he happy when Leonore can do its fellow.’ 

Miss North thought it only justice to remark that much 
indeed must he due to Miss Keymer ! 

Clara said warmly, ‘ Is it not well done, papa ? ’ And 
little Leonore sat down under its shadow. 

Until presently all subsided into the breakfast repast; 
after which General North fixed the tree to the wall of his 
dressing-room. But before the breakfast- table was forsaken, 
Mrs. North said, * The promised wish must be Antonia’s, as 
she has earned the reward.’ 

General North would have left this part of the subject 
untouched again, because he had read the quick fiushing 
feeling in Antonia’s expressive face ; this Mrs. North had not 
noticed, and she did not like Antonia’s effort to appear less 
thought of than Clara’s would have been. The General could 
not now pass it over, so he said cheerily, in a tone Antonia 
well understood, ‘ Now, wish, little girl, and it is granted, on 
such conditions as were promised before.’ 

‘ I have wished, then,’ said Antonia, looking up again 
with sunny eyes. 

* Tell it out, then,’ said her uncle. 

‘ 0 no! I cannot tell it out,’ replied Antonia; ‘it was 
aunt who said that I must wish ; and I can’t tell any one 
until aunt says it is reasonable.’ 

‘ 0, tell it, Antonia ! do tell I ’ exclaimed Leonore. 

‘ No, not one word of it, even to uncle, unless aunt says 
it is reasonable,’ said Antonia again. 


76 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


* Never mind,’ said the General in a low tone to Leonore; 
* mamma will tell me, and I will tell my little fishwoman, if 
she can keep a secret.’ 

* 0, yes, papa, I can ’ 

‘ Hush ! hush ! ’ whispered the General ; and all the party 
separated. 

Faithful to his promise, the General told Leonore that 
Antonia had wished for a pony for her, that she might ride 
over the hills with them. Mrs. North had thought it not 
reasonable at present, because of Leonore’s long idle time at 
the sea, but some day it should certainly be granted. Leonore 
was of course delighted with the secret, and only^told Miss 
Keymer, who looked alarmed, and Clara, who hoped she 
would enjoy her rides when she had them, and Chetwind, the 
housekeeper, and Mahala, and her mamma’s maid, and the 
old coachman, — all under promise of secresy, and then 
waited in hope for the anticipated fulfilment. 

The summer breathed itself away in beauty. Many of 
its pleasant hours were spent by Miss Keymer with her two 
bright young pupils, Antonia and Leonore, drawing from 
nature in the woods. After Christmas Miss North paid 
another long visit to London, and the home party, not 
excluding Clara, fraternized more closely together. Leo- 
nore’s sea-side expanding had completely freshened the little 
girl’s whole being, and with Antonia at hand to aid in 
keeping every bright avenue open, she never relapsed into 
the mere child of the schoolroom again. From Antonia she 
had learned that prayer was the full confidence of a child 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


77 


with its Father in Heaven, asking that which it desires to 
receive, seeking that which it longs to find, and knocking 
at His door, that it may he opened unto it. And often, 
when the little Leonore knelt alone by her bed at even-tide, 
she thought of the dark night at sea, and prayed for Bill 
Briggen the sailor. 

The winter had passed away, — March had come in, with 
its dry wind and dust, and Antonia and Leonore were often 
peeping into the wild banks for the early spring flowers. 
It was on a March morning when, among the letters brought 
to General North at the breakfast-table, was one directed 
“ To His Honour, General North, &c.” It bore the post- 
mark of the little fishing town at which they had stayed on 
the coast, ajid its seal was black. General North opened it, 
and read, — 

‘ Sir, your Honour, General North, 

‘ In hopes this finds you well, and Madam, and the 
young darling lady, as it leaves me a poor desolate widow. 
Sir, it was with my poor Bill as he always said, — ^he went out, 
and returned home one dark night no more. ^ “ Bet,” says 
he, “ I’ll take out our Bible no more ; then, if I should be 
lost, you’ll have that to cast anchor by.” But he was 
always minding of it at home. He took wonderful notice 
of all it had to say of the sea ; and that very last night, as 
.he lighted up the lantern, and turned up that part where 
the good Lord came walking right firm where the worst sea 
was chafing, in the eye of the wind, and catched hold of the 


78 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


hand of the poor fisher Peter, when he was lost, as we speak 
in the tempesting waves, it seemed as if he knew all afore 
him, for he lifted up a prayer like to none hut a last ; and 
he said to me, “ Bet,” said he, “ if your old man some night 
should come hack with his fishnets no more, what we read 
from the Book will he the picture of he, — the waves all a 
tempest, and dark, and he sinking, — ah, then. Bet, there’ll 
he a Hand that will catch hold of your Bill’s, and heave 
him up to that life in Eternity. I shall know the Hand, 
Bet, for ’twill he His who was nailed on the tree. If it 
please the good God I should happen of that, don’t you fret 
over the salt sea for me, hut hoist a prayer up where the 
stars lie afloat up above ! there’s no tempesting waves for 
your old man up there. Bet, for He rules there who walked 
on the wind, and hushed up the storm with the hreath of 
His mouth. 0 Bet,” says he, as he turned off to go, 
“ there’s no sail skuds so fast afore a fresh hreeze in our 
seas, as a prayer to them skies !” I was a letting him out, 
and didn’t I note how there shone out a star from the 
darkness right above him as he spoke ! And when I look 
up to them now, don’t they seem to my senses all kindled 
brighter for joy that my poor Bill is up among them ! And 
I got a friend to put these few words on paper, as Madam 
ordered I should. But I hope your Honour, and Madam 
and the darling young lady will come again, though my poor 
Bill and his boat harbour no more on this shore, hut I can- 
do all as regular and well as before ; and not one of the 
gentlefolks has found me lagging yet j hut I take a lazy 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


79 


step back again now, for there’s no husband a- waiting ; and 
sometimes I could just not go at all ; only I take my first 
look at the Bible, and, though I can’t read, I can tell where 
the words mostly lie, and they turn up in my mind with the 
sound of the voice of my old man. So no more at present 
from your unworthy servant, 

‘Betty Briggen.’ 

No eye was. undimmed at that breakfast-table; poor 
little Leonore cried the greater part of the day over the 
letter, then laid it up — ^the first sacred treasure in the 
archives of her young life. Mrs. North wrote to the poor 
widow words of comfort, and sent temporal help in her 
need. Clara and Miss Keymer, each alone, turned over the 
leaves of the Gospels that day, looking lopg and intently on 
the words — “ It is I,” breathed by Him whose still small 
voice the roar of no tempest can drown ; they looked on the 
prayer of the sinking Peter — “ Lord, save me ! ” and thought 
of the hand stretched out to rescue and uphold on the 
surface of the sea’s engulphing depths, until they longed that 
they, too, had the hope and the joy of Bill Briggen. To 
Clara it was a first glimpse of things eternal ; but to Miss 
Keymer it seemed like an echo to the tone in which her 
young companion in the woods had breathed forth the 
word Heaven. 


80 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTER Y. 

General North’s estate extended over the whole of the 
parish in which he resided, and included the greater portion 
of the adjoining parish. Pleasant farm-houses with their 
substantial out-buildings, and peasants’ cottages nestling 
among the trees, presented a picture of temporal comfort, 
and bore witness to the residence of a liberal-hearted land- 
lord. The General had a great respect for natural archi- 
tecture, therefore along the village lanes grew, undisturbed, 
the brotherhood of trees, forming long vistas, living and 
transparent aisles, filled with the melody of heaven-taught 
choristers — who here and there along the whole extent, 
sometimes in solitary recitative, sometimes in choral har- 
mony, poured forth their strains for love of their own melody. 
The parish in which the mansion stood was extensive and 
richly wooded ; but the wildness of scenery in the adjoin- 
ing parish left the strongest impression on the passer-by. At 
the Hall, this adjoining parish was familiarly called ‘‘ The 
Alps,” from the steepness of its hill-sides, and the wild 
ravines they enclosed. The church patronage of the parish 
in which he resided was in the hands of General North ; but 
that of the Alpine parish was in the gift of the other pro- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


81 


prietor of the land, an aged Sir Roger de Lee, who had long 
ceased to visit his small estate, leaving it entirely to the 
management of a farming steward. The Rector of the Alps 
was an old man, and the Rectory, like its tenant, falling 
into decay. The clergyman of the parish in which the Gen- 
eral resided was in the vigour of life ; it would be difficult, 
however, to say in what way his parishioners had been the 
better for his active capabilities. Towards the close of the 
winter of which we have been speaking, the link that binds 
the pastor, in deed, or in word, to his flock, was severed in 
one awful moment, by that clergyman’s premature death. 
The door stood open, and blessing divine and earthly might 
then have entered. Oh! if hereafter the eyes of many a 
pastor must look tremblingly upward, “when the Chief 
Shepherd shall appear ; ” will there then also be no “ search- 
ings of heart ” in some of those with whom appointments so 
responsible were vested ? 

Tidings at this time arrived from abroad that Harry 
North had been in severe action, and was on his way home ; 
he had received promotion, and was expected in the approach- 
ing month of May. 

In April the General went up to London to bring Anas- 
tasia back to her home. Expectation of the sister’s return 
raised no kindling of gladness, no overflowing of love ; there 
were no young hearts counting the days, or weary spirits 
longing for the hour. She was coming, and she came, and 
aflfe jtion received her ; but the ordinary surface of the home 
was scarcely broken by even a ripple— -so little bright fresh- 
4 ^ 


82 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ening had Anastasia to give to its stationary waters. This 
was not the fault of education alone ; it is true, that her educa- 
tion had entirely consisted in relays of self self-acquirement, 
self-exercise, self-relaxation j hut “ pure and undefiled reli- 
gion ” is capable of correcting the evil tendencies of educa- 
tion, by offering to each heart the noblest aims, the strongest 
motives, the highest principles that created intelligences 
could aspire to. Why then was Anastasia — why are any 
who profess to have embraced it — earthly, selfish, contracted 
still ? Will not each one who finds a nipping blight upon 
his faith, a chill upon his heavenly love, a shadow on his 
soul, aim to discover its true cause? Anastasia had no 
abiding determination to search her own heart’s depths, or 
to bring her daily life, with all its words and all its feelings, 
to the clear light of Heaven ; if she had done this her por- 
trait on the written page would have worn a different 
aspect. 

Anastasia North had taken up religion as an addition, 
rather than as a corrective, to her life. New views, new in- 
terests, and efforts, were adopted ; but old things had not 
passed away. Self still held the secret recesses within. If 
any one opposed her wishes, her opinions, her feelings, it was 
evident that it was not the deep conviction of truth that rose 
up in love to the contest, but the impatient resentment of 
self-annoyance. The consequence was that she was as little 
opposed and interrupted as possible; and a current of 
thought and feeling flowed on, in the hearts of all with 
whom she was associated, apart from her observation and 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


88 


participation. There were some whose friendship might 
have proved an ever-deepening blessing through life to Anas- 
tasia ; but no sooner did the roots of their affection strike 
below the surface, and reach this subsoil of self in her, than 
the bright blossoming of their feeling faded away, leaving 
only so much vitality of friendship as could find nutriment 
on the surface strata of her well-informed mind, benevolent 
painstaking, and ordinary kindness. That highest talent of 
INFLUENCE, which radiates in every direction, diffusing 
around the possessor a perpetual circle of blessing — that 
highest talent, Anastasia buried in self. 

Anastasia went through a great amount of exertion in 
her devotion to the business material of all things. She ap- 
peared to consider Time and Money as the two most respon- 
sible talents for which she had to account ; both these were 
measured out with ceaseless exactness. It was impossible 
not to feel sorry for her toil ,* seeing, if she could but have 
risen a little higher, those subordinate agents would have 
found their own level ; and instead of being pent up between 
banks of equal distance, like a mercantile canal, with its nar- 
row limits and circumscribed course ; they would have flow- 
ed on like a heaven-directed river — whose source is in the 
eternal hills, and whose end is to be the measureless sea, 
flowing on in a fertilising stream — now slow and,now rapid, 
now keeping on steadily through natural embankments, then 
breaking away and pouring forth freely as if knowing that 
its source is exhaustless ; to whose brink none fear to ap- 
proach, but all are free to receive whatever it can render, as 
it passes on to its rest in the deep sea at last.. 


84 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


Anastasia, also, was always taking the labouring oar, 
she seemed to know little or nothing of what it was to make 
her way by sometimes spreading sail, and trusting to the 
breath of heaven to fill it ; the laboured strokes of the oar 
were more substantial, and therefore more satisfactory to her. 
Well the boatman could witness that sailing is no idle work ! 
there must be a watchful eye, a right judgment, a ready 
hand; while yet the chief agent in view is the favouring 
breeze from the skies ; but Anastasia felt always more at 
home with the labouring oar. 

All things were done by her in regular appointments — 
one week was the picture of another. She went on as uni- 
formly as an admirable piece of machinery, subject to slight 
incidental deviations, but righting itself again to the same 
equable motion. It followed of necessity that her character 
approximated to this uniformity of habit, and all freshness 
of thought and feeling by degrees ebbed away from her life. 
Even in her communing with the divine Word, she ceaseless- 
ly read a fixed portion ; it might have been that at times a 
single sentence of infinite truth would have unfolded its 
depths and breathed forth its fragrance for her, absorbing the 
time allotted for her regular portion ; but only to have read a 
single sentence would have been to Anastasia a most unsat- 
isfactory employment of the time ; not considering that to 
enter into the depths and heights of one infinite truth may 
occasionally be more enlarging, enriching, and elevating, than 
to pass over the surface of many, with only a more partial 
apprehension of their fulness. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


86 


As may be supposed, it was not very easy to Anastasia 
to receive and to act upon the suggestions of others ; regu- 
lations and plans must be worked out of her own practice, 
evoked from her own mind, or at best, must entirely com^ 
mend themselves to her judgment — a rare event where they 
proceeded from others, before she could throw herself into 
their carrying out. She knew very little of what it was to 
lend herself to the thought or feeling of another, and, like 
the bee, to gather the farina from every flower to work up 
into its own perfected honey. 

“ I am a matter-of-fact person ! ” Anastasia would not sel- 
dom declare ; an assertion which no one for a moment thought 
of controverting, all being most entirely convinced of its 
truth ; for no matter of fact, in Anastasia’s sense of the phrase, 
could easily be concealed from her close and curious inquiry ; 
but on matters of feeling, she would tread and retread again, 
like a blind man on the flowers of the spring, until they lay 
bruised and crushed beneath her weight, while she only 
thought herself making her own point good. 

In her reading, Anastasia very generally made choice of 
such books as tell of the life of facts — the biography of men 
and women, to the exclusion of those which lead into more 
direct communion with the truth itself. She seemed also 
lost in the belief that what she did must be the agency to 
act on others, not what she was ; but all such delusions 
must roll from the mind when realities alone break on the 
view ; then will it be seen that less than a word — a look or 
a tone from a spirit trained in sympathy’s resistless power, 


86 


THE MINISTEY OP LIFE. 


or truth’s unselfish love, may, and often will, in one passing 
glimpse, accomplish what the association of years with those 
devoted to the material of circumstances has failed to effect. 

Anastasia’s was a very even life ; but it could not be 
called a very bright one. A shadow hung over and darken- 
ed it ; she had no idea that the shadow fell from herself ; on 
the contrary, she believed it the universal result of ‘ settling 
down into the sober realities of matters of fact.’ Anastasia 
had learned in the schoolroom to distinguish^ as an essen- 
tial of knowledge in things material ; but as to all that re- 
lated to the moral world of action, thought, and feeling, she 
had no science by which to distinguish there. The mistakes, 
therefore, into which she fell, were equally unhappy in their 
result both on herself and on others. She was always con- 
fusing the respect and attention due to her position^ with 
the affection and confidence which can be won only by char- 
acter ; she tried to exact the one no less than the other. 
She did not observe that the affection and confidence of the 
heart have been so created by God, that they are dependent 
on being called forth — they cannot give themselves to that 
which does not attract them, and every attempt to exact 
them only lessens their amount. She did not seem to re- 
member that even the divine commandment, My son, give 
me thine heart,” lies powerless until the eyes of the under- 
standing are enlightened to behold “ the beauty of holiness ; ” 
and that the second command — completing the whole law — 
“ Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself,” is enjoined on 
the heart that has responded to the first ; because this uni- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


87 


versal love to man could not be called forth except by the 
Great Father of all. Could Anastasia have realised this, 
and trained her own heart in the free exercise of unselfish 
love to others, she would not have had to experience the 
general short-coming of affection and confidence toward her- 
self. As it was, she never drank deeply and abidingly of the 
cup of human happiness. One hour of such gladness as An- 
tonia often felt, in the blessed consciousness of the love of 
Heaven and Earth, and her own delight in all that was love- 
ly, might have diffused sunshine over a whole year of such a 
life as Anastasia’s. And yet both dwelt together in one 
home, both had the same resources at command, both looked 
to the same eternal Hope. 

One of General North’s first announcements on his re- 
turn from London with Anastasia, had been — ‘ I have pre- 
sented to the living.’ 

^ Do you really mean so ? ’ asked Mrs. North anxiously. 

‘ Yes, I do ; a promising man turned up, and I made 
him the offer. Can you guess who ? ’ 

‘No; I only hope it is a different man from the last.’ 

‘ Your clerical cousin has to quit his present living be- 
cause of the unhealthy locality. I only saw him the day 
before leaving town, and I offered it to him.’ 

‘ Has he decided to accept it ? ’ 

■ ‘ Yes ; how could he do otherwise ? the very thing for 
him to step into ! It was fortunate I had not made more 
haste in disposing of it. If your cousin had not been afioat, 
I should have waited for Harry’s return.’ 


88 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Mrs. North made no reply ; a sadness in that momen 
had fallen on life. Not until that moment had she so fully 
realised that light had been dawning on all things around 
her. New wants, living hopes, and affections unfelt before, 
had awakened within her ; and since the necessity for this 
new appointment had come, all these feelings had gathered 
around that appointment in undefined expectation. Yet, 
this new world she seemed entering was a misty one still ; 
she felt that she was no longer where she once had been, but 
no clear apprehension had yet contemplated the heavenly 
features of divine truth — no steadfast glance yet made mani- 
fest to her the things unseen and eternal. She knew her 
cousin, and she knew he was not what she wanted. What 
she did want she could not have told ; but she knew that 
shadows satisfied her soul no longer ; she wanted that which 
she could now lean upon, and prove to be enduring. What 
it was she did not know ; but she knew that he who was 
coming would not bring it, and her spirits sank in disap- 
pointment’s depression. 

The new rector arrived. The candle was placed on the 
candlestick, but, alas ! no fire fell from heaven to kindle its 
flame, giving light to all around ! He who had come, in 
profession, to serve the sanctuary, was one consecrated, in 
word only, to Grod ; and the fire from heaven will descend 
on the altar of no unsanctified heart ; the breath of the world 
is an atmosphere which, if it be admitted within, extinguish- 
es the sacred ignition. The poor lifted their eyes and 
looked on the man, and, having done so, went forth again tc 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


89 


their work and their labour, until life’s evening, then to lay 
down their toil-wearied limbs in the grave, unsoothed by a 
pastoral spirit’s benediction. They soon settled what to ex- 
pect, for they judged by the instinct of the heart, a quicker 
process, and often a surer one, than the reasoning of the 
mind ; and but few among them cared to attend on the pub- 
lic ministry of one who lived not “ as if he pleaded with men.” 

0 England ! had not thy Heaven-vowed sons arisen, 
shaken themselves from the dust, and put on their beautiful 
garments of truth, meekness, and righteousness — ^had they 
not arisen, and shod their feet with the preparation of the 
gospel of peace, and put on zeal as a cloak, surely thou hadst 
not now sat as a queen among the nations, with kings given 
as dust to thy sword, and as driven stubble to thy bow ! 
But if thy risen church hath but scarcely saved herself and 
thee, what shall the end be of those of her sons, who, with 
‘ light flashing from every point upon their darkness,’ still 
refuse to obey the Gospel of God ? 

But He who sat on the well of Sychar, under the burden 
and heat of the day, and when the woman of Samaria utter- 
ed her expectation of One coming who would tell them all 
things, made answer, “ I that speak unto thee am He,” is 
still a God at hand ; and many a lowly peasant finds Him 
where, in their untaught ignorance, they sought him not. 
And not the peasant only, but those no less who, like the 
noble of Candace’s court, bend an inquiring spirit over “ the 
record God hath given us of His Son ; ” asking of any 
Heaven-taught stranger who may cross their path, the light 


90 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


of instruction to guide their wandering footsteps. “ For 
thus saith the Lord God, behold I, even I, will both search 
my sheep, and seek them out.” 

Mrs. North bore the sad burden of this disappointment 
in silence. She had started on her heavenward way under 
the influence of that one word ‘ alone ; \ and now, though for 
a time she had thought that she should find some man to 
guide her ; when that hope had faded before her, she turned 
back alo7ie to ‘ the Prophets, the Gospels, the Psalms, and 
Epistles,’ and found that the commandment is a lamp, and 
the law is light ! ” 

Anastasia was allowed to pursue her o^ plans in the 
parish unhindered. She soon engaged the new clergyman’s 
daughters as her assistants in the Sunday-school, and the 
clergyman added his subscription in aid of the schools and 
the benevolent clubs of the parish. 

When Harry North returned from abroad, it was a 
bitter disappointment to him to find the sterility of a worldly- 
hearted pastor again settled down on the soil that he loved ; 
but there was no earthly remedy, so he buried the grief, and 
said nothing. There was still a hope that light divine might 
possibly at no distant day break forth and shine from the 
church of the Alps ; but the hope, so far as it rested on man, 
was a faint one. The aged patron had long ceased to manifest 
any interest in his tenantry, much, therefore, could not be 
looked for from his efforts on their behalf. So, as the young 
Captain afterwards said, ‘ There was but one loophole — “ I 
gave myself unto prayer ! ” ’ 


THE MINISTKY OF LIFE. - 


91 


The day after the Greneral and Miss North had returned 
from London, Mr. Beltimore, a gentleman residing on a 
neighbouring estate, called, as he often did, and joined the 
party at luncheon. 

‘ I must say. General North, I felt myself particularly 
unfortunate in not seeing you before your visit to London, 
for I had it in my mind to ask a favour of you ; in fact, to 
Bay the truth, I had intended to present a petition through 
you to Miss North, knowing her active benevolence; but 
somehow or other, I missed my opportunity.’ 

The General left Anastasia to respond, the conclusion 
of the address having been directed to her. 

Anastasia at once inquired the nature of the favour that 
was to have been requested of her. 

‘It was a case of distress,’ replied Mr. Beltimore; ‘I 
think I have the letter by me, for I have always carried it 
in my pocket-book. It was particularly unfortunate that 
I lost both your help and the General’s, for I fear I am hard- 
ly like to meet with another opportunity until I go up myself.’ 

Now Miss North did not at all dislike to be called upon 
to appear as the benevolent agent, and here, apparently, an 
opportunity had nearly been afforded her of coming forward 
in this character, so she remonstrated with Mr. Beltimore, — 

‘ I think I remember telling you of the projected length of 
my visit, and that papa would come up for me in April.’ 

‘ Yes, yes; it was not for want of knowing; and I was 
always intending to mention the case to the General, but, 
somehow, one thing or another deprived me of the oppor- 
tunity.* 


92 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


By this time Mr. Beltimore had found the letter : it was 
as follows : — 

‘ Dear Sir, — flatter myself you will have some recol- 
lection of an early friend of your father’s of the name of 
Morton. He visited at your father’s residence in your 
childhood. I cannot tell whether you may even have heard 
of his death. I, his widow, was left by him well provided 
for : but the failure of a bank has swept every temporal 
comfort from me. I am in deep adversity. Could you, in 
any way, befriend me and my fatherless children ? My boy 
is still requiring the instruction of a school ; I could place 
him at an evening school not far from our lodging, if I could 
but find him employment in the day to pay for it — ^fourteen 
shillings a quarter is the charge. My daughter could take 
a situation as governess, but her health is failing under the 
pressure of poverty. I am, as I think you know, a native 
of another country, with no relatives here, and my husband 
was left the last of his family. Entreating your kind con- 
sideration of my case, 

‘ I remain, yours most obediently, 

‘Florence Morton.’ 

The date of the letter was of nearly six weeks’ standing 

‘ I suppose you have had some communication with the 
widow since the receipt of her letter?’ now inquired the 
Greneral. 

‘ No, indeed, I have not ! for it seemed to me a case re- 
quiring seeing into, and so I waited for an opportunity.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


93 


‘ But, my good sir, your opportunity lay before you in 
the very next post. A bank-note would have met the im- 
mediate necessity at once.’ 

* Yes, yes. General ; but I cannot see my way clear 
always to fire off at a venture. I do like to take a good op- 
portunity for doing the best that can be done.’ 

^Take my word for it then,’ said the General, rising 
with fiushed brow, ‘ the best that can be done is to set up a 
gravestone at once, and write upon it, “ Here lieth a lost op- 
portunity ! ” ’ 

This was said in a tone bitter with indignation; and say- 
ing this, the General quitted the room. But Anastasia 
always thought it best to soften off, as much as possible, what 
she called her father’s ‘ flash of the field ; ’ and she entered 
at once into the subject with Mr. Beltimore, as to what he 
now thought might be done. 

^ I can assure you, if the General had not come down so 
fiercely upon me, I was going to inform him that I think of 
hastening my own visit to London, in order that I may secure 
an opportunity for inquiring into the circumstances of the case. 

‘ I would not wait for that, indeed,’ replied Anastasia, 
whose best feelings were all flowing into the cause ; ‘ I 
would not wait for that. I have a friend in London who 
will, I am sure, make every inquiry without loss of time. 

' Will you allow me to enclose that letter to her, and em- 
power her, if necessary, to give some small immediate relief, 
and to let us know what her view of the circumstances may be. 

Mr. Beltimore consented, and Anastasia wrote off by the 
post of that day. 




94 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

More than a fortnight passed by without any reply. 
Anastasia wrote again, somewhat resentfully, at her request 
not being responded to. Another week elapsed, after which 
she received the following answer : — 

‘ My dear Anastasia, 

‘ It is very evident you have but little idea of life in 
London, when you suppose that I could go off, at a day’s no- 
tice, from the far west to the extreme east, in order to inves- 
tigate a case of distress. I need not, I hope, assure you 
that my will was good ; but literally I had not a moment at 
liberty during the interval between your first and second 
letters. Things crowd one upon another, until one is in 
danger of standing still from being at a loss which way to 
turn ; in fact one is carried away in the stream ; and as to 
supposing that one has time at personal disposal, it is the 
greatest fallacy in the world. When I received your admon- 
itory letter I did rush off. I found the street with great 
difficulty, and the number in the street, but no such parties 
were known there. I even showed the letter, but the woman 
of the house assured me that no one in any way answering 
to the description was there. Of course I felt it useless to 
inquire any further. It was of the greatest importance that 
I should be home to a committee, so back I rushed as fast as 
horses’ feet could carry me. We had the horrible misfor- 
tune of knocking down a child by the way j of course the 
poor little creature was just where it ought not to have been, 
*— in the middle of the road. It did not seem much hurt, 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


95 


for they do escape in a wonderful manner ; hut the hindrance 
just lost us the quorum at the committee, and the most im- 
portant vote had to be postponed for a month. Not another 
moment to spare I 

‘ Yours, in greatest haste, 

‘ Diana Nictitans.’ 

^ P. S. — You may comfort yourself that the case is one of 
the countless impositions which in the present day inundate 
the public. I could give you instances without number, but 
time forbids more than the assurance of the fact to satisfy 
your mind.’ 

Anastasia thought the fact most satisfactorily ascertain- 
ed ; but the General did not view it in the same light : he 
desired her to give him the widow’s letter. Captain North 
was expected to arrive in London on the next day ; his father 
had already written to welcome him, but he would write 
again, and ask him to investigate the case. 

Anastasia in vain suggested that it must be useless, be- 
cause the fact that there was no one answering to the address 
was already ascertained — Harry could do no more than her 
friend had done. Her father replied that he never trusted 
to any one who did things in a hurry : to “ make haste slow- 
ly ” was very possible, but the perturbation of hurry had no 
claim to be trusted. He should write to Harry, — if he an- 
nounced the case an imposition, he then should be convinced 
that such was the fact. 

‘ There is no reasoning against partiality ! ’ exclaimed An- 
astasia, when she had quitted the room. 


96 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


The General wrote, enclosing the widow’s letter, — 

‘ My dear Boy, 

‘ Give an hour or two to see into this case before you 
leave London. There has been delay in the party to whom 
it was addressed, and, I fear, it may be too late. 

‘ Your affectionate father, 

^H. North.’ 

In the course of a few days the following letter arrived, — 

‘ My dear Father, 

###***# 

‘ I dashed into your business at once, for I thought the 
old date of the letter made the affair somewhat pressing. I 
had seen horrors enough abroad, but really these cold-blood- 
ed tragedies are worse ! How in the world could such a let- 
ter be suffered to lie by so long ? However, I suppose you 
had inquired and been balked ; for the lodging-house woman 
said she had been asked for them before, and knew no such 
parties. “ How long have you been here ? ” I asked. “ The 
best part of a month,” she answered. And the letter was 
almost three months old ! so I spent no more words with 
her ; but reconnoitred the place, and soon spied out a baker’s 
shop. Now, thought I, if they were ever here, the chances 
are that it was there they had bread ; so in I turned, and asked 
after them. It was pretty much all the good woman could 
do to tell me, and I to hear ! The long and short of it was 
just this, — A poor widow used to come to her week after 
week for bread, and always brought her money with her ; she 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 97 

never said a word more than to ask for her bread ; paid for 
it and took it away. At last she ceased to come for some 
time, and when she appeared again she was almost like a 
corpse ! The shopkeeper questioned her ; she said she had 
been at death’s door, but she had now sold the last garment 
that could be parted with, and was come for bread once 
more. She had worked day and night until her illness came 
on, and her daughter was then sinking away. The shop- 
woman tells her husband, and he goes off to some wholesale 
warehouse not far distant, and tells the lads there, and they 
all club together and put no less than thirty shillings into 
the baker’s hand the next day for the widow. God’s bless- 
ing rest on the brave fellows and the worthy baker, who 
carried his petition into the midst of them in trust of their 
charity ! It gave such comfort as sympathy and food can 
give the dying ; but it was too late to save — the girl and her 
mother rest together ! The boy enlisted as a soldier, glad 
enough, no doubt, to find a vent for bitter feeling in author- 
ised strife with his fellows. Who could have left such an 
appeal as that letter contained unanswered for a day, even if 
it had come from an enemy ? In a week I hope to be with 
you ; but I have a few things to settle still, which makes the 
exact time rather uncertain. Love to my mother, and to all. 

‘ Your most affectionate son, 

‘ Harry North.’ 


5 


98 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE 


CHAPTEK YI. 

The return of spring again told on Leonore’s vigour; she 
hung languidly over her lesson-books, and took a perceptibly 
lessened interest in everything. But though her cheek had 
lost its colour, and her eye its life, she was not thin in figure 
as before, and therefore her want of steady application was 
attributed to dissipation of mind at the expectation of her 
brother’s return, rather than to any natural inability. The 
poor child was often in disgrace, and her lesson-books blotted 
with tears. 

At set of sun, on the 20th of May, Harry North crossed 
the threshold of his home ; and with his coming a change 
seemed to pass over all things, a vigour of life, beyond what 
had been there before. It might be all fancy that the birds 
in their songs, and the breeze fanning the young leaves of the 
trees, seemed all to sing out and say, ‘Welcome home, 
Harry North! Welcome home, this bright May!’ This 
might be all fancy, but it was certain that Hugo, the blood- 
hound, bayed three times as often, and quite in a different 
key ; it was certain that the labourers had twice as much 
life, as they worked, always on the lookout for a sight of the 
young gallant gentleman home from the wars ; it was certain 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


99 


that good old Benson, the butler, seemed suddenly to have 
shaken the weight of ten years from his solid figure ; and 
every one in the household shared the brightening conta- 
gion. The family feeling rose high. Little Leonore bent 
over her tasks day by day with a determination to conquer 
them, and get herself free, that succeeded for a few days ; 
but the tired feeling came back worse than before, and the 
holidays were still lying some weeks in the distance. Gene- 
ral North saw the lowered tone of the child, and proposed 
that she should be granted her release from the schoolroom 
a few weeks earlier than the canonical time, to celebrate her 
brother’s return ; but Mrs. North thought the mental and 
moral discipline good, of continued application to lessons 
until the set time of release; so the tired child laboured 
heavily on. 

Many a kind, anxious glance fell from the brother’s eyes 
on the spiritless aspect of his little sister. Captain North 
was not only a classical and Oriental scholar, but a practical 
man also ; he alone, of all, inherited his mother’s intellectual 
tastes, combined with his father’s powers of observation and 
discernment. Let him be where he would, he seemed always 
to win the ascendant, not by crossing, but by winning, the 
wills of all others. The root of this universal success, no 
doubt was, that every ^one trusted him, and felt themselves 
safe, to the last scruple, with his kind true heart ; and every 
one had a secret feeling of personal elevation in yielding to 
the demands of his frank, generous nature. He was a being 
of transparent sunlight ; and those whom he opposed, if capa- 


100 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ble of kindly feeling, were sure to be in a brighter humour 
when conquered by him, than before the antagonism began. 
Such bright influence on earth would not be so rare as it is, 
if the hearts of the young were as ceaselessly trained in the 
free exercise of unselfish feeling, as their minds are in per- 
sonal acquirement. School, college, and the camp, had all 
been compelled to yield up their best offerings to Harry 
North’s bright demand ; and each in return had received the 
glowing reflection of the light so concentrated. His home 
was the haunt of his affections on earth ; but the young sol- 
dier had learned that divinest lore whose birthplace is celes- 
tial — that lore which secures, as far as the highest influence 
can, the right judgment of the will ; he had learned it not at 
the knee of his mother, nor from the lips of his sire, but in 
the rough nursery of the camp and the battle-field. 

‘ Where is my little sister ? ’ asked the Captain, with a 
secret misgiving, as he missed Leonore and Miss Keymer one 
evening from the drawing-room, soon after his return to his 
home. Mrs. North replied, ‘I conclude Leonore has not 
been attentive at her lessons. Miss Keymer complains that 
she has been determinately idle the last few weeks ; and idle- 
ness is as destructive to character as to education ! ’ 

‘ My dear mother, I should say both character and edu- 
cation are often greatly the worse for want of a little author- 
ised idleness — a little more of free release and unbending 
when required, and not only at calculated seasons. Where 
is my little sister ? ’ 

Antonia looked up, and the long story written in her eyes 
was read by the soldier at a glance. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


101 


* I have fought for my Queen, my country, and my home, 
and I am not going to be cheated without knowing why ! ’ 

This sentence, uttered in his own tone of bright determi- 
nation, was finished by the Captain, as he shut the drawing- 
room door after him ; then, vaulting up-stairs, he knocked 
very decidedly at the door of the schoolroom, and opened it 
without waiting a response. ‘ Good evening. Miss Keymer ! ’ 

Miss Keymer sat on her stool at the schoolroom table, 
looking unusually worn out, and built up in resolution ; poor 
little Leonore was seated opposite. She looked round at the 
sound of her brother, but did not venture a word. 

I am sorry. Captain North, that I cannot invite you this 
evening to my schoolroom ! ’ 

‘ I am quite aware that you cannot. Miss Keymer, and 
therefore I am sure that you will pardon me for coming un- 
invited ! ’ 

* Not this evening. Captain North ; Leonore is in disgrace 
for inattention, an^ I am quite determined that her lesson 
shall be repeated perfectly, before she has a single indul- 
gence ! ’ 

‘ So am I, Miss Keymer, and for that very reason I am 
come ! ’ So saying, the Captain lifted Leonore in her high- 
backed chair, a little out of the direct line of Miss-Keymer’s 
displeased eye, and seated himself at her side, directly op- 
posite to Miss Keymer. 

‘ I must request you. Captain North, to leave Leonore to 
her lesson alone ; she is perfectly capable of learning it ! she 
has done exactly the same lesson every day this week with 


102 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ease, and I am not going to allow her any help as an encour- 
agement to idleness I ’ 

^ Now, good Miss Keymer, pardon your old pupil just 
home from the wars! I only want to learn this easy lesson 
too. If you could but have seen how many a poor young 
fellow, whose home I never saw, but because he was not 
standing his ground, I have given him a look or a word, and 
seen him cheer on to the strife ; and now, my own little sis- 
ter, that I have shed a soldier’s tear for, on the eve of the 
battle-day, and yet when she is down I must not share her 
fate ! I couldn’t stand it. Miss Keymer ! nor you neither, if 
you have to think of it when I am far away again, and, it 
may be, laid low in a soldier’s wild grave ! ’ 

Miss Keymer’s aspect relented, and the Captain began * 
‘ Now, Leonore, tell me all we must learn, every word ! ’ 

Leonore threw her arms round her brother’s neck, with 
a clinging clasp that almost unnerved him; but he -kept 
his perfect composure. ‘ No, only one acm, just round my 
neck ! as we have but one book, because we are in school 
now! You must let me have the book, because I have not 
had it yet, and I will read it aloud that we may both learn 
it together. What ! is this alj ? I shall soon manage this.’ 

Captain North read the lesson once or twice, then shut- 
ting the book, began to try and repeat ; he made several mis- 
takes, and such peculiarly odd ones that Leonore laughed, 
and a smile lightened Miss Keymer’s tired countenance ; but 
as the soldier’s eyes were fast shut, in his extreme attention 
to the task, he did not see what was passing. At each mis- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 103 

take that he made Leonore set him right from her own recol- 
lection ; and as each time of repeating he remembered less 
than the former, it soon became evident, from the assistance 
rendered by Leonore, that the unexpected stimulant of her 
brother at her side had freshened her tired powers into action 
again. At length the , Captain said, ‘ It seems to me you 
have the best chance still ! Let me try that way of learn- 
ing ; you say it, and see how far I can set you right ! ’ 

Leonore tried right cheerfully, but the Captain was still 
so much at fault, that Leonore ^ad to recollect and fill up 
her own mistakes herself, which she soon did entirely. 

‘ I think, Miss Keymer, that Leonore has now said her 
lesson every word ; and I know you will excuse me a few 
blunders.’ 

Miss Keymer had resumed her grave looks. 

‘ Leonore can learn for you, I perceive. I knew very well 
she could do it if she chose.’ 

‘ 0 Miss Keymer, you really shall go through just one 
campaign with me, for old-acquaintance sake, that you may 
see what a Captain’s “ Hurra, my lads ! Victory and Home ! ” 
will do for the poor tired boys.’ 

The young Captain shouted his war-cry as if on the bat- 
tle-field ; and the burst of that sonorous voice which had sent 
the last thrill through many a brave heart, before it gave its 
final throb to its sovereign and its country, electrified Leo- 
nore, and stirred Miss Keymer’s kind heart to its depths. 
‘Now we may all go down together,’ added the Captain. 
But Leonore whispered, ‘ No, Harry, I must not go down to* 
night, because I did not learn my lesson before.’ 


104 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ Then neither must I. Miss Keymer, must I not go 
down again to-night ? ’ asked the Captain. 

• I will excuse Leonore at your request, Captain North ; 
Luc, indeed, another evening I shall be obliged to lock my 
schoolroom door if Leonore is so perverse any more.’ 

‘ No, indeed, Miss Keymer, that might be a personal dan- 
ger to me ; for being pledged to my little sister’s fate, I 
should be obliged to bring up my artillery to bear ; and, you 
see, I might be held answerable for the consequences ; but, 
indeed, Leonore will never be idle any more. So now we 
are only waiting for you.’ 

‘ You must excuse me, I am much too fatigued.’ 

‘ Not a step without you. Miss Keymer. What ! deny 
me the first laurels of home, and send me down shorn of all 
glory in success ? You could not, Miss Keymer. Indeed, 
I have often helped a poor fellow to win when I have been 
ready myself to drop from fatigue ; the very spirit of the 
act gave me strength ; and you know. Miss Keymer, as well 
as I do, that you can always fetch up spirit for a kindness. 
I will sit here on the banisters until both you and Leonore 
have had time to take a short nap for refreshment, and I will 
sing over an old song to make the time pass without weari- 
ness ; but not one stair will I descend until you descend 
with me.’ 

The Captain’s song : 

* The red rose is pale as the lily to-night ! 

0, where is the blush that arrayed her at dawn ? 

She unfolded in beauty, then swept by a blight, 

And she faded to paleness ere faded the morn. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


105 


Alas, for the red rose ! the first breeze of day 
Bore her opening fragrance abroad on its wings ; 

But now, faded and scentless, she droops on the spray ; 

*Tis her requiem to-night that the nightingale sings. 

Sigh for the red rose I had the blight not passed by 
She had drunk all night long of the heavenly dew, 

And the first breeze of dawn would have wakened her eye, 

All her beauty and fragrance unfolding to view.’ 

Leonore reappeared quickly in her clean white frock for 
the evening ; and Miss Keymer soon followed, refreshed by 
the change of feeling and slight preparation for the drawing- 
room. Leonore received her with a warm, confiding em- 
brace, to which she stooped as kindly as if all had been peace 
through the day ; and the three descended in perfect har- 
mony together. 

Miss Keymer had felt the greater disappointment in 
Leonore’s premature falling off in her lessons, because, 
through the whole periods of application, since the previous 
spring, Leonore had entered into her schoolroom pursuits 
with far more interest and intelligence than ever before. It 
seemed not to be obvious that the mental expenditure 
having been greater, it accounted for an earlier necessity for 
rest and relaxation. The anxious instructress was disap- 
pointed, and the child pressed the more heavily as her 
powers of attention gave way, both of which evils might 
have been avoided by a little more unbiassed exercise of that 
high moral qualification, Common Sense ! But all such 
mistakes in Miss Keymer were constantly mitigated by her 
ready response to counteracting influences. She did not 
5 * 


106 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


build up herself in any bulwark of selfishness or pride, and 
therefore did not incur the responsibility of fencing in her 
unavoidable mistakes from the counteracting influence of 
those kindly agencies, which circulate in the moral world, 
no less than in the material. Miss Keymer never incurred 
this serious responsibility ; she was always ready to yield to 
whatever made a legitimate appeal to the kind true feelings 
of her heart. Tired, and a little cross, she spmetimes was, 
and no wonder that she was so ; but she never legalised her 
crossness by calling it displeasure, she perfectly distinguished, 
and observed the distinction. She knew that displeasure at 
a fault was a feeling to be entirely yielded up when atone- 
ment was made, or forgiveness bestowed; and the natural 
kindness of her disposition made her glad to rise to the con- 
stant observance of this equitable rule. In this way she ac- 
quired a power of at once restoring harmony between her 
own spirit and her pupils ; and the young heart’s elasticity 
was constantly saved from a moral over-pressure which 
could only have tended to render it insensible, or disposed it 
to become a prey to reserve and melancholy brooding. And 
when, as in the present instance. Miss Keymer laboured un- 
der a mistake, then her happy readiness to yield to the kindly 
efforts of others came in to the rescue. Had Miss Keymer 
indulged in either selfishness or pride, neither of these bright 
attractions could have adorned and enriched her personal 
'character and relative influence. 

A silent expression of pleasure beamed from every face 
on the three as they entered the drawing-room, from every 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


107 


face except Anastasia’s! Anastasia had guessed the cam- 
paign, she had not ventured to enter the lists from fear of 
her father’s displeasure, but she looked upon her brother’s 
invasion of the schoolroom as most unwarrantable. And 
now she watched for an opportunity of sending one useful 
hailstone in the sunbeam that had, so unexpectedly, broken 
out on the child. When Leonore, in the course of the even- 
ing, passed near her chair, Anastasia detained her to say, 

‘ Kemember, this is the last time that Harry will be allowed 
to interfere I ’ Miss North believed that it was a principle 
of justice, which impelled her to give this passing ad- 
monition. 

0 Anastasia 1 can you not discover that your principles 
of justice are a ‘ coarse fabric,’ indeed, beside the exquisite 
texture of the enactments enjoined by our Father in Heaven 
between one human heart and another ? Dig about the roots 
of this justice of yours, water it freely with pure unselfish 
love, then it will gradually acquire a delicacy and tender- 
ness in its firm fibres, of which you as yet have gained no 
conception ! 

With this one exception the evening proved bright and 
refreshing to all, and to none more than to Miss Keymer, 
for the sense of yielding to kindly impulses is in itself a 
refreshment, and she had met with more than usual courtesy 
in the family circle. The Captain seemed most anxious to 
make the .evening agreeable to her ; and very soon Antonia 
had found a seat at her side, and was kindling her into 
interest on some facts of natural history in which she had 


108 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


been delighting that day. The General guessed that 
Leonore and Miss Keymer were trophies of a field well 
fought, and he beamed forth on all in proportionable satis- 
faction and kindness. Mrs. North was particularly gra- 
cious ; and Clara smiled on Leonore ; so that, finally, the 
child went happy to her slumbers. And when Miss Keymer 
retired, the Captain opened the door for her, saying, ^ A 
thousand thanks for your goodness this evening.’ Miss Key- 
mer was satisfied and glad. The night brought refreshment, 
and in the morning the governess and her little pupil met 
again, with no sense of disturbance or oppression upon them ; 
both were bright, as if life were beginning afresh with the 
day ; every hope, desire, and effort, had full opportunity to 
spring, bud, and blossom anew. 

^ Buckle too, bravely, this one day more ! ’ the Captain 
whispered to his little sister after breakfast. ‘ I have a fine 
scheme in my head, but don’t give it one corner in yours. 
W ork on in real earnest, and, cost what it will, be sure you 
are in the drawing-room to-day when we come in after din- 
ner.’ Leonore promised, and bent all her energies to her 
tasks, not without success, though perhaps she could hardly 
have gone through another day of like efforts with like results. 

Captain North was not at the luncheon-table, no one had 
seen him since breakfast. The dinner hour arrived, but ho 
was not there. * Is Captain North out ? ’ inquired the 
General of Benson, as they sat down to table. 

‘ I don’t know, sir.’ 

‘ Don’t know j but I choose to know ! I have heard noth- 
ing but “ don’t know ” all day ! send off to the stables directly.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


109 


A footman ran, and brought back word that Captain 
North had ordered his horse at ten o’clock, and had not 
been home since. 

The dinner was a very spiritless hour that day, having 
lost — and no one knew why — the animated voice so lately 
added to its circle. The General brightened on entering 
the drawing-room, at sight of Antonia and Leonore. An- 
tonia, now sixteen years of age, would have been promoted 
to the late dinner, had it not been for her own wish still to 
drink tea with Leonore and Miss Keymer, who were both 
not a little glad of the bright addition at their early repast. 

‘ Where is your Captain, Leonore ? ’ asked her papa. 

‘ I don’t know, papa.’ 

‘ Don’t know 1 why the whole house is infected with 
“ don’t know.” I will forbid that answer on a penalty, if I 
hear it again.’ 

Then entered Benson. ‘ Captain North asks for Miss 
Leonore at the hall-door.’ 

There was an ill-concealed expression of most heartfelt 
satisfaction in good old Benson’s face, which awakened some 
general curiosity and interest, and the shout that in a mo- 
ment followed from Leonore drew the whole assembled fam- 
ily, except Mrs. North, to the hall. 

There sat the Captain, fresh mounted on Blenheim, and 
he held, by a leading rein, a little round dappled gray pony, 
all fitted with side-saddle and bridle ! At sight of the as- 
sembled family the Captain took off his hat with three 
cheers of success, which the General returned with a most 


110 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


hearty ^ Well done, my brave boy ! ’ Antonia ran back to 
the drawing-room, exclaiming, ‘ 0 thank you, thank you, 
aunt, for granting me my long-promised wish ! What a 
beauty it is ! ’ 

‘ My dear, I don’t know what you mean ? it must be 
some scheme of Harry’s, not mine.’ 

So Antonia ran back to the hall to admire the gray pony 
again. 

Meanwhile the Captain shouted, ‘ Come, Leonore ! here 
I am, after riding all day to hunt, capture, or beg a pony for 
you, and I have got this perfect lamb at last : upon trial, 
with offer of purchase. Come along, just as you are, only 
get on your hat, not a moment to lose.’ 

Captain North, it may be observed, often shouted ^ not a 
moment to Zose,’ but no one had ever heard him say ‘ not a 
moment to spare."' 

Leonore held back in doubt, and went to the drawing- 
room to ask her mamma ; but Antonia flew off for the hat, 
and the shawl — which Mrs. North tied fast round the little 
girl ; almost before she knew what had happened, she was 
upon the pony, and off started Blenheim and the dapple gray 
by his side, leaving all the party to consider the propriety 
at leisure. 

Antonia was wild with joy at this most unexpected event : 
not one knew, half so well as her young heart of sympathy, 
how poor little Leonore needed some freshening of Nature , 
and this of all seemed to her most delightful. The General 
was magnanimously silent. Mrs. North only remarked that 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


Ill 


she hoped Leonore had enough on to keep her from taking 
any chill in such exercise. * 

‘ 0 yes, mamma,’ responded Clara, ‘ the air at this open 
window is as soft and warm as July.’ 

Kind Miss Keymer kept very unsettled from fear of an 
accident. ^ The child so unused to anything of the sort ; 
and how could they be sure, in one day, that the pony was 
safe ? ’ Miss North only wished that Harry would make a 
few more inquiries before he dashed at things in his wild way, 
as if everything must give in to his fancy of the moment. 

All this while the little Leonore rode bravely on the fat 
dapple gray, by the side of her brother. Old Blenheim well 
knew his rider, and was for showing off a little at first, but 
finding it did not suit the occasion, and having a strong 
fancy for imitation, he kept his eye turned on the small dap- 
ple gray, and quickly succeeded in copying his miniature 
paces to perfection ; so the ride was most perfectly delight- 
ful ; on through one avenue after another with the green 
leaves gleaming gold, and the birds ceasing their songs to 
look down in interest and approval, as the brother and his 
little sister passed below. 

The roses soon glowed on Leonore’s pale cheeks, and her 
blue eyes looked up in such gladness and love to her brother, 
that a thought of the camp and the battle-field, where ho 
soon again might be parted from all whom he held most dear 
on earth, rushed faint, for a moment, through the heart of 
the soldier. 

‘ Tired yet, little sister ? ’ 


112 


THE MINISTEY OP LIFE. 


‘ 0 no, we won’t go home yet ; do let us stay out a long 
time ! * 

So they left the shady avenues and rambled orer the 
common ; there the fresh evening breeze bore health on its 
wings, and not until the first star had lighted its lamp did 
they return to the home. 

Leonore’s tumbled white frock was changed for another, 
and when she again appeared in the circle, the life that had 
passed through the spirit of the little girl was most evident, 
her comparative listlessness was freshened into animation 
and vigour. 

The following morning Captain North detained Leonore 
in the breakfast-room, from which only Miss Keymer was 
gone, and desired her, in a low voice universally audible, to 
take his best respects to Miss Keymer, and say, that having 
himself gone without a dinner the day before for the sake of 
a ride with his little sister, he should feel extremely obliged 
if Miss Keymer would, for that day, allow Leonore to go 
without a lesson in algebra, that she might have an earlier 
ride with him. 

‘ 0 Harry I you know I don’t learn algebra.’ 

‘Well then altimetry! I think perhaps that might be 
spared for to-day I ’ 

‘ 0 Harry 1 how can you talk so ? I don’t know what 
altimetry is.’ 

‘ Indeed, I was not aware. Then ask if the most ab- 
struse of all the sciences you do learn may be excused just 
for to-day ? ’ 

‘ 0 Harry! I cannot take such messages.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


113 


‘ What is your Captain bribing you to try at, my little 
fishwoman ? ’ asked the General. 

‘ It is impossible, sir,’ replied the Captain, ‘ to get up a 
suitable message to Miss Keymer between us, the subject is 
quite beyond me.’ 

But Antonia had caught the first glimpse of the purposed 
attempt, and running off in search of Miss Keymer, returned 
at this moment with the full permission for any time in the 
day that Mrs. North approved. Mrs. North no longer ob- 
jected. The victory was won from that hour. The rejoicing 
and invigorating ride of each day on the pony, which was 
soon made by her father’s gift her own, with the amount of 
application by this means reduced, was all the aid that the 
little Leonore wanted to carry her on bravely and brightly 
through the few weeks that still remained until the summer 
holidays. And when they came, she lived an unfettered life, 
with her brother and Antonia, which restored the delicate bal- 
ance once more to the mental and moral powers of her nature. 

The resources at command in Leonore’s home were those 
of affluence, but the refreshment of variety has been provided 
by God to meet the varying measure of requirement for all ; 
it is only the violating His providential arrangements, which 
involves the condemnation of any to the debasement of cease- 
less monotony and toil. The healthful, happy child of the 
labouring peasant, may drink as ceaselessly of the refreshment 
of variety, as the child of the Peer, or the Monarch, “ He 
hath made everything beautiful in His time ; also He hath 
set the world in their heart ; so that no man can find out 
the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.” 


114 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTEE YII. 

One day, in this bright summer, Captain North, wander- 
ing along the river’s brink, looked up, and saw Antonia 
seated beneath the cool shadow of the trees above. He 
sprang up the bank, and lying down on the mossy slope near 
her rustic seat, reposed in the shade. 

‘ Were you reading ? ’ he asked, as he glanced at the 
book on her knee. 

^ No, I was hardly doing more than enjoying the beauty 
around.’ 

‘ What a paradise it is ! ’ said the soldier, ‘ but alas ! I 
always see the vision of Paradise lost — the angel with the 
fiery sword guarding the Tree of Life ! I can never discover 
any nearer approach to that Tree ; mine seems to be a home 
in Paradise without the one only blessing that can make 
Paradise eternal ! ’ 

‘ There may be many nearer approaches,’ Antonia replied, 
‘ unseen, except by Heaven ! ’ 

‘ Yes, I know there may be ; God grant it in my home ! ’ 
the soldier said fervently, and then added, ‘ I am sure my 
little Leonore has sheathed in her heart a ray from the 
skies ; it is always gleaming out in her life, and that ray 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


115 


was caught in companionship with you ! But my father — 
oh, no words can describe what it is not to see his noble 
spirit yet taking one step in the narrow pathway leading to 
life everlasting ! ’ 

Antonia was silent, and the soldier soon continued : 
‘ Sometimes I feel as if I must try something desperate ; I 
am continually speaking out for myself, and my father bears 
it so generously, as if he remembered that I have the right 
of a freeman ! But I know this very feeling would make 
him resent it the more if he thought that I took upon my- 
self to question and judge for him ; and yet to see him near- 
ing that tremendous precipice of Death, and not to have a 
hope that he has entered into covenant with “ Him who 
alone can save him from falling,” is more than I know how 
to contemplate ! ’ 

Antonia was still silent, and Captain North went on : — 
If my father were always standing on guard, as most peo- 
ple are, it would be quite a different thing to turn the point 
home ; but he is so open, so noble, and has no notion of hold- 
ing up a shield away from the battle-field, that one would 
seem stamped a coward for striking ! ’ 

‘ But,’ said Antonia, ‘ must it not be the cowardly feeling 
that alone can make the coward ? ’ - 

‘ Yes ; perhaps it is only the want of sufficient courage 
to venture what might looh like a cowardly act, that lies at 
the root of it all, and yet it is hard to break the ice and 
plunge in ! ’ 

‘ But not hard when once it is done ! ’ replied Antonia. 


116 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


It was a simple answer, but the young warrior looked up 
to the speaker; there seemed to be in the depths of that 
simple reply, the fact of a conflict he had shrunk from as 
yet, of a. struggle beyond any his life of warfare had known. 
He asked instantly, ‘ Then, Antonia, you have broken it ? ’ 

^ Yes,’ she replied, with strongly repressed emotion, ‘I 
did venture it ! ’ Then looking down on the hero at her 
feet, she added emphatically, ‘ But it closed up again, and I 
might not try any more ! ’ 

‘ That is nothing to the point ! ’ he exclaimed, as he 
sprang up, ‘ you have entered on the conflict which I, as a 
coward, have passed by ; but I turn to it now, recalled by 
your voice ! Farewell.’ And then looking back, he added, 

* 0, stay here with Heaven, and make intercession for my 
father and me ! ’’ 

Scarcely had Captain North disappeared among the 
trees, than Antonia saw him returning again. ‘It is no 
use,’ he said earnestly. ‘ I feel all my own efforts are vain ; 
the clasps of the heavenly armour will not bind beneath the 
pressure of such trembling Angers as mine. I must kneel at 
the feet of the Eternal, and ask Him to gird it on for the 
struggle. Will you, Antonia, ask it with me ? ’ 

In that lonely glade, long consecrated by Antonia to 
communion with Heaven, they knelt, while the soldier, 
whose sanctuary had more often been the temple of Nature 
than the edifice of Art, poured forth his supplication to 
Heaven. The fire of his spirit — a fit impetus for the wrest- 
ling against flesh and blood, but no auxiliary for the fight 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


117 


whose banner is the cross, and whose victory is by faith — 
calmed itself in the presence of that might whose strength 
is Omnipotence. He left the glade, determined that, if pos- 
sible, the sun of that day should not set until he had pre- 
sented some petition to his father, which might lead in his 
home to the knowledge which is life eternal. 

That afternoon the son found his father, as he usually 
did, reposing in his arm-chair in the study after writing his 
letters. The afternoon shade of that room made it a delight- 
ful seclusion ; through its open glass doors you looked on 
sunshine gleaming on green slopes and foliage, while your- 
self reposing in shade. The son felt more deeply than ever 
the welcome that always beamed on his presence. 0, it 
was hard to darken it all by a word, immeasurably harder 
than to plunge in the breach, though with all but a certainty 
that the next step would be fatal ! But more than duty, 
filial devotion required it. He presently said, ‘ I have often 
longed to tell you, father, what I have tried at in my Com- 
pany. I have read from the Bible, whenever it was possible, 
night and morning in my tent ; some of the men have come 
in whenever they could, and sometimes I have had one or 
two young officers with me. I could not express the effect it 
seemed to have ; it has made me long to ask you to have 
morning and evening prayers in our home ! ’ 

Alas ! THE Bible was still a subject on which the Gen- 
eral could not meet an appeal. Bising instantly in anger, 
he replied, ‘ If you had had the patience to wait your next 
return, sir, you would probably have found yourself as much 


118 


THE MINISTEY OP LIPE. 


master here as in your tent — ^your old father cleared out of 
the way, and his regulations might have been swept after 
him by your emendations, without any opposition from him ! ’ 

‘ 0, father ! call back those words, or their weight will lay 
me low in the next field I fight. A soldier’s grave will shield 
me for ever from the sight of my home bereft of my father ! ’ 

The father looked down on his son ; pride, impatience, 
and anger, had all broken loose on the head bowed in filial 
entreaty before him ; and when, instead of resentment’s 
quick sense of injustice, he saw only the depth of the wound 
he had inflicted, he felt in a moment the wrong he had done ; 
and steadying himself by laying his hand on the shoulder of 
his son, he said, in a tone of deepest feeling, ‘ Forgive me, 
my boy ! I do recall them, I do ! ’ Then standing erect, 
he groaned forth, ‘ 0 Harry ! you shall never see the battle- 
field again, or I shall go to my grave with the thought like a 
dagger through my heart — my demon of passion slew my 
son ! You shall keep the laurels you have won, un watered 
by the tears of a broken-hearted home ! Do not speak to 
me now, but send your mother to me here ! ’ The son went 
to find his mother, and met her on the terrace. 

^ My father asks for you, mother, in the library.’ His 
mother hastened in. Harry North only added, ‘ I shall be 
in my own room ; ’ and left her. 

Within an hour he was sent for ; and his first anxious 
glance showed him how deeply his mother had shared in the 
conflict of feeling. He little knew at that moment that her 
confession had been fuller than his own, that, appealed to 
* 


* 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


119 


by bis father, she had found the long wanting power of ex- 
pression, and the feelings that had flowed into her soul, 
silently and alone, from the page of inspiration, had in this 
unlooked-for moment been poured by her into the heart of 
the husband of her youth. But the son, as yet, knew not 
that such feelings existed in the breast of his mother. His 
father spoke : ‘ Harry, you, no less than your father and 
your uncle, have met the fiercest onset of danger and death 
in the service of your country. Are you willing now to give 
up your commission, at the wish of your parents, that foreign 
war may not darken the light of your home ? ’ 

For a moment the young soldier was staggered, as there 
rose up instantly before him the associations and ties of the 
camp and the field, the care of his men, the laurels bravely 
won, with near hopes of higher promotion, and the interest 
of varied travel, adventure, and discovery. All these lay as 
attractions in the distant horizon ; while above him a dark 
cloud had gathered, — he stood before his parents with the 
persuasion that his effort to bring his home into communion 
with Heaven was lost and buried in bitter feelings, which he 
could never venture to awaken again ; and the immediate 
result of which was this appeal from his father to give up the 
profession, in which his father had before seen him advancing 
with so much pride and pleasure. It was a struggle of feel- 
ing for the moment, only second to that which had cost him 
so much an hour before ; but a moment weighed all, and he 
answered, without question or reserve, ‘ If it be the will of 
my parents, I am willing.’ 


120 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


His mother laid her hand in his, but turned her face 
away. Then his father silently opened a closet, lifted from 
its shelf a large Bible, and placed it in the hand of his son. 
‘ Take this, my boy,’ he said ; ‘ thrice to-day you have prov- 
ed the reality of the principles you profess : be the chaplain 
of your home, and in secret pray for me — for our own 
strength is hopeless in the war with ourselves ! ’ Then, in- 
stantly ringing the bell, he gave the household order for 
attendance at morning and evening prayer ; and unable to 
bear more he drew his wife’s arm within his own, and tak- 
ing his son’s arm, they strolled on the secluded lawn before 
the library window until the dinner-bell called them in, 
calmed in spirit, and refreshed beneath the blessing of 
Heaven, and the cool evening breeze. 

It was difficult to the parents and the son to rally to 
general conversation at the dinner- table ; but Harry North 
made an effort so happily directed as to draw out his sister 
Anastasia into lengthened description, which diverted her 
scrutiny from her parents for the time, and relieved them 
from the pressure of either conversation or silence. As 
soon as the ladies left the room the father took his son’s 
arm, and they followed to the drawing-room. ‘ Shall we 
sit under the trees?’ said Harry North, as he saw the 
evening breeze waving their branches. His parents assent- 
ed. Neither Antonia nor Leonore were in the room, but 
Clara accompanied them. Harry North looked out for his 
little sister, who presently appeared at the drawing-room 
window. At sight of her parents and her brother on the 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


121 


lawn she set off at full speed, and was soon in the midst. 
She gave life to the scene, and even the General rallied a 
little. At length her brother made a venture, Leonore 
was seated on his knee, and he whispered, ‘ Shall I tell you 
a secret ? ’ 

‘ 0, do, Harry ! ’ 

‘ Your Captain is not going to the wars any more.’ 

* 0 Harry ! 0 papa ! ’ said the child, with an almost 

scream of delight ; and the full tide of her joy, with Clara’s 
affectionate pleasure, kindled a life in the scene on which it 
solaced both parents to look, though the demands of the day 
had been too deep for much expression from them. 

At length Leonore said, ‘ I will just run and look for 
Antonia.’ 

‘ No, no,’ said her brother ; ‘ you stay here with papa 
and mamma, and then you can . tell all the people as they 
come one by one.’ 

Harry North then withdrew, not sorry to escape before 
his elder sister joined the circle, not being equally sure of 
the tone she would take ; for Anastasia always liked to be 
one of the first to know everything : she never liked what 
she called “ a want of confidence ; ” in other words, she had 
pride enough to feel hurt if others were informed of a fact 
before it was communicated to her, not having imagination 
sufficient to enable her to conjecture why such a thing might 
naturally occur, or have appeared best at the time. When 
Anastasia appeared, Leonore ran forward to tell her ; but 
the fact was too astounding to be responded to until Mrs. 

6 


I 

122 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

North had taken up the subject, during which the General 
rose, and strolled away, as he generally did at such confer- 
ences, and Leonore went with him, and Clara began to col- 
lect her unusually dissipated thoughts, in order to get up a 
little trigonometry that evening. 

Harry North made his way to the glade, where, his 
morning petition had been ojffered, there to pour forth his 
fervent thanksgiving ; and there he hoped he might again 
find Antonia to tell her of the wonderful work of that day. 
She was there, and his spirits regained their tone in breath- 
ing forth the burden of feeling to one who could compre- 
hend and uphold. As he sat calmly there all Nature 
around and above seemed full of quiet rest; the hush of 
peace breathed everywhere. Was Nature’s stillness more 
than it was wont to be ? No ; but he had passed through 
wrestlings of spirit deep and strong, that made the first 
given sense of perfect calm within and around him intense. 
The sun was setting, and his long day’s work was done, 
the victory won, the strife all hushed in love ; and to his 
vision now the hope of immortality had dawned on the 
bright paradise around — the Angel, with the fiery sword, 
seemed gone from Life’s fair Tree ; around it he saw his 
home’s bright band assembling at morning and at evening, 
and his hand raised to gather for them its leaves of heal- 
ing. But the shadows fell, he hastened back by the nearer 
and wilder way, while Antonia took her own path to the 
house. 

Antonia swelled the tide of rejoicing ; the General was 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


123 


cheered by the brightness before him ; both parents looked 
in silent feeling on those around them. 

As the evening advanced a shout was suddenly heard, 
followed by a long, loud cheer. All listened, the cheer rose 
again, and Captain North went out to the hall-door. But 
the moment he had opened it, and stood visible in the light 
of the hall-lamp, from a hundred voices rose a loud, joyous 
shout, ‘ Cheer, cheer, for the Captain ! ’ and the peasants’ 
tones of gladness pealed forth on the night. The continued 
cheering brought out the whole family. From the top of a 
huge oak-tree a stentorian voice sent forth again the demand, 
• Cheer, cheer, for the Captain ! ’ and again it rang out from 
the assembly below. How the joyous crowd had come there 
was the question ; it was soon discovered that they had heard, 
in some way or other, that the young Squire was returning 
no more to the wars. It was no passing compliment they 
had come there to render ; the English peasant lends not his 
strong voice to such service ; you must touch his heart if you 
would awaken his spirit-stirring shout, and the young soldier 
was the loved of all hearts : often had his setting out for the 
wars dimmed the eyes of the villagers, and the blessing of 
the poor had covered his head in the day of battle, and now 
that he was going no more “ it was meet they should be glad 
and rejoice.” It was long before speaking was possible. At 
length the villagers paused to take breath, and the young 
soldier on the top of the stone flight of steps waved his hand 
to ask silence, and spoke, ‘ Ten thousand thanks to each one 
of you all, my good fri^ds ! Why, you have taken my 


124 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


sword from me to-night, with a hundred times more of what 
I call heart-music than ever I had when I girded it on. Next 
to my home, it is for your sake I rejoice to lay it down, that I 
may be always at hand to carry out my father’s good wishes for 
you. May God, of His mercy, give us peace in our time, peace 
in our homes, and peace in our hearts, for the love of His only 
Son, who took the battle-field alone, and gave up His life to 
win the peace of God for us ! Now let me lead you off in 
a cheer, “ Three cheers for the cottage-homes of England ! — 
Peace, freedom, and blessing, on the cottage-homes of Eng- 
land ! ” ’ Loud and long rose the cheer on hill, forest, and 
river. Then a murmur of voices broke forth from the 
crowd, ‘ The Master ! the General ! the Squire 1 ’ The man 
on the oak-tree caught up the sound, and shouted, ‘ Three 
cheers for the Squire, General North!’ and again swelled 
the chorus, and died on the night air away. The General 
was too deeply moved by the sight and the sound of all his 
tenantry rejoicing, to make any response, so the Captain 
spoke again, ‘ My father thanks you by me, and gives the 
last cheer for our Queen.’ High pealed the loud shout from 
the man on the tree, from the yeomen, the labourers, the 
lads, and the household servants ; General North’s loyal 
heart echoed the strains — ^his voice the last that was borne 
by the night-breeze along the murmuring river to the wood’s 
deepest glade. Then the Captain descended the steps, and 
shook hands with them all— a soldier’s hearty grasp, and the 
man hastened down from the tree not to miss the salute ; . 
and some of the lads, growing bold in the darkness, cried 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


125 


out as they left, ‘We shall show up more cheers for you 
yet ! ’ And so they all departed, and the family returned 
to the retirement within. 

It seemed as if on that day the waves of passionate feel- 
ing were to roll over the heart of the soldier without inter- 
mission, until the slumber of night calmed his soul into rest. 
Yet it was well that this last had been added, for none but 
the soldier can know what it is for the last time to ungird 
his sword ! It is not as a weapon of destruction that he 
clings to it, and would yield his life up rather than it, but 
because he girded it on to guard the steps of the Throne, 
and the thresholds of the homes of his Country ; and when 
he lays it down, it seems to him as if, for the first time, he 
consented to fall back in the rear, and take his place among 
the guarded, instead of the guardians of his land. And yet 
it is only so in seeming^ for truly it is not alone the swords 
flashing from their sheaths that are a country’s defence and 
exaltation; but the noble spirits no less that direct her 
counsels with wisdom and judgment, the generous hearts that 
keep her life-blood in healthful, free circulation, and the 
holy hands raised in supplication to Heaven for the blessing 
and the shield of the Lord God of Hosts, the God of the 
armies of Israel. 

In the drawing-room conjecture arose as to how the 
tidings could possibly have circulated so soon, and Leonore 
said, ‘ I kept the secret indeed ! only Harry told me I was 
to stay in the garden and tell the people one by one as they 
came ; and as soon as Harry was gone, Benson came with a 


126 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

message to papa, so I just ran back after Benson and told 
him ; but, indeed, I kept the secret, for I did not tell any 
one else ! ’ So this gave the clue to unravel the mystery. 

And now the evening hours closed with prayer, for the 
first time since that mansion had been reared. The General 
stepped up to his son and said, ‘ My boy, I have no book of 
family prayers.’ 

‘ Never mind that, father, I can do without ! ’ and the 
family entered the dining-room where the servants stood up 
in long rows. General North, standing for a moment at the 
table, said to his household, ‘ My son has undertaken this 
office for your good, and the good of each one of us I trust, 
I desire therefore that no unnecessary excuse be ever made 
for absence. May God grant us His Blessing I ’ He then 
sat down by Mrs. North, the son near with that large Bible 
before him. The soldier-son of that house opened the Gos- 
pel of St. Luke, and read of that Centurion whose servant 
was dear unto him, and who sent beseeching Jesus that He 
would come and heal his servant’s sickness ; who yet, when 
Jesus went, thought himself unworthy that He should enter 
under his roof, — unworthy himself to go unto Him, but sent 
to Jesus again, beseeching him to speak but the word and that 
word would bring healing. “ And J esus marvelled and said 
to the people that followed, I have not found so great faith, 
no, not in Israel. And they that had been sent, returning, 
found the servant whole that had been sick.” 

The comprehensiveness of the brief narrative, the mutual 
relation of the persons of whom it told, with the beautiful 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


127 


touches of character and feeling, made it tell on that even- 
ing with peculiar effect. Then followed the prayer. But 
when a son offers up the first family orisons by which a 
household is consecrated to God, that petition must he 
sacred to the offerers, the attendant angels, and the ear of 
the Eternal. 

While the family were preparing for rest, a murmur of 
voices, now heard from, afar, broke again on the ear. On 
looking from , the windows bright bonfires were seen on the 
hills of the “ Alps,” glowing red against the azure skies 
of night and the silvery light of the stars. The soldier 
watched until their last gleam died away. The deep well- 
springs of feeling on that day had rushed again and again 
with torrent force through his soul ; but One had been near 
who can say to the wild waves of feeling, “ Peace, be still, 
it is I ! ” The soldier had heard and was calm. No day 
can be lived over twice, and there are some days which add 
years, rather than hours, to the experience, the strength, 
and the depth of a lifetime. 


128 


THE HINISIBX OF LIFE. 


/ 


CHAPTEE YIII. 

The gamekeeper and his wife had now perfected themselves 
in the art of reading. Antonia often paid a brightening 
visit to their cottage, and shared its joys and sorrows, 
but the reading-lessons were not needed now. There rose 
within her soul a longing for some other cottage-home 
on which to shed a beam of added light and love ; but none 
seemed in her way. 

It was in the early spring of this same year, when the 
winter’s snows had melted and the ground was dry beneath 
the winds of March; Antonia, delighted once again to 
enjoy the freedom of the woods, had wandered one day 
where she had never been before, until at the outskirts of 
the far plantation she came upon a little plot of ground 
hedged roughly in, and a rude cottage reared upon it, with 
broken plaster and thatch of many patches, and, as it 
seemed, of many holes as well. It stood alone upon a 
little piece of common land, beyond the plantation hedge. 
Antonia climbed the bank and looked upon it; it seemed 
as if it wanted the footsteps of love and blessing to enter 
at its rough and time-worn door. She remembered having 
passed a gate in the plantation bank ; so turning back, she 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


129 


found an outlet there. The owners were both within, an 
aged pair, who looked as time-worn as their dwelling-place. 

‘ Your cottage stands so pleasantly on this high ground, 
I longed to come and see who lived within.’ 

‘ It’s fresh and airy enow, but it’s starving cold, I can 
promise you I ’ said the old woman, as she stirred up the 
embers of the burning wood. 

‘ Whose cottage is it ? ’ asked Antonia. 

‘ Whose ? why, theirs as built it 1 ’Tis fifty years agone 
since we two boiled our pot ’aneath the Squire’s trees out 
on this waste bit here, and then we reared up a bit wall, and 
laid on a bit roof, and have bided here all the years since.’ 

‘ Do you work for the S^quire ? ’ Antonia asked the old man. 

‘ No ; I has worked for Maister Roger Lee, but it’s not 
the worth of much work I can do now for any.’ 

“ Have you all you want ? ’ asked Antonia, who felt a 
little at a loss how to express her charitable inquiries ; but 
neither of the aged people comprehended her meaning, so 
Antonia was quick enough to translate. ‘ Have you food 
to eat, and warm clothes to wear ? ’ But two questions to- 
gether proved fatal to the answering of either ; so Antonia 
asked again, ‘ Have you food ? ’ 

‘ Yes, dear. What ! I daresay you was hungry with 
this cold air 1 I’ll get you what I have,’ said the old 
woman ; so she stepped to her closet and brought out some 
bread, a hard piece of cheese, and some onions. ‘ Ben, set 
a drop of water oh, and I’ll make a taste of tea.’ 

But Antonia, taking the dear old woman’s hard-worn 
hand, said,— 6* 


130 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ No, thank you, I am not hungry ; I only wanted to 
know that you had food to eat.’ 

Yes, yes,’ said the old man, ‘ a little’s enow for we now, 
I’ve known the day I’d eat off the best of a loaf at a meal ! 
That rate a living would never hold now. But there’s 
never a charity given away by the Squire, that Master Ben- 
son forgets to send us word on; and the gamekeeper’s 
mis’es, she’s rare good to a poor body ; and them children 
of hers, pretty rogues 1 are as happy as lambkins to come 
a-skipping in with a cake from their poor mother’s oven. 
When my mis’es was ill, with the rheumatise so bad, she 
see’d to her like a daughter.’ 

‘ Can you read the Bible ? ’ asked Antonia. 

‘ No, can’t read. There was no schooling in our young 
time.’ 

‘ Do you get to church, and hear the Bible there ? ’ 

‘ Yes, yes, we always keeps our church.’ 

‘ Do you know who the Bible tells us of ? ’ 

‘ Don’t know as I do.’ 

‘ Don’t you remember any one we hear of in the Bible ? ’ 

‘No, I can’t say I do.’ 

‘ Don’t you know anything the Bible tells us ? ’ 

‘ Can’t say as I do.’ 

‘ Did you never hear of Jesus ? ’ 

‘ Not as I know of.’ 

‘ Shall I come and see you, and read to you in my own 
Bible?’ 

The double question had again to be divided, and then 
the old people assented to both propositions. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


131 


When Antonia went again on the following day they 
looked kindly upon her ; and when they saw the Bible in 
her hand the old woman said, — 

‘ I’ve been a turning it over in my mind, and now I take 
it in hand to consider, I do remember there’s something in 
the Bible about “ hair singed,” been’t there ? ’ 

Antonia welcomed this faintest of rays, and said, brightly,— 
‘ You are quite right ! I will read it to you ;’ and turn- 
ed to the history of the three children in the fiery furnace. 
No apparent gleam passed over the face of the old people 
until Antonia read emphatically, “Nor was an hair of their 
head singed.” 

‘ Ah ! ’ said the old woman, ‘ I told my master I knowed 
that was there, and so it be ! ’ 

This one link was too precious not to be secured ; on the 
strength of it Antonia ventured to read a part of the chap- 
ter again; then shutting up her little Bible without further 
note or comment, she went away, having promised, unasked, 
to come again very soon. 

On her next visit, she had but just taken her seat by their 
side, when the old woman looked earnestly at her and said, — 
‘ My master and I has had enow to think on in them 
things you read ; we mused ’em over of evenings together, 
and my master’s put to it to think that those men as did as 
they were ordered should be burned up alive, and him as 
ordered ’em come to no harm at all ? But as I tells him, 
they that holp him cop ’em in, must be as bad as him that 
ordered ’em ? ’ 


132 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Antonia agreed, and the wonderful chapter was read 
again. This time they were more familiar with it, and 
Antonia directed their attention to the presence of “ the 
fourth ” in the fire, whose form was like the Son of God, and 
that it was by his power and love those whom the king had 
cast in were brought out without a singed hair. They took 
in the idea, and seemed inclined to sit and ponder no less 
upon the power and love of God than they had done before 
on the escape of the king. 

On the next visit the Bible was evidently looked for 
with interest. Antonia talked again of the subject ; they were 
now quite at home with it, and Antonia proceeded to say, — 

‘ The Son of God can bring those who love Him, as safe 
out of the waters as out of the fires.’ 

‘ What can Him ? Ah, I’ll be bound Him can ! ’ 

‘ Shall I read you about the waters ? ’ 

‘ Yes, ’tis wholly stamming to think on ! ’ 

Antonia read of the storm on the Lake of Galilee, and 
Peter sinking. The old people were as much occupied with 
the fact of the Divine Son of God walking upon the water 
and" saving the perishing Peter, as before with the walking 
in the fire ; too much occupied for after-discourse, the happy 
Antonia, whose heart delighted in her aged friends, left them 
again. On her next visit the old woman said brightly, — 

‘ Did ye ever hear such a wind as blew all the longfull 
night through ? How my master and I did lie a-rocking in 
the blasts on it and a-thinking of Peter, and how afreard he 
Was when it dreve on like that But we kept a-thinking he 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


133 


didn’t ought to hare looked off from his Saviour, then he 
wouldn’t have been so afreard and gone sinking I Would he ? ’ 

Antonia assured them they had found out the very truth 
of the whole. Their hearts were now evidently awake to the 
thought of the rescuing Saviour ; it was a moment for lead- 
ing them on. 

‘ The Son of God can raise those who love him out of 
their graves to meet Him,’ said Antonia. 

‘ Ah, that’s a sure thing 1 ’ said the old woman, who was 
now prepared to believe any wonder of power, but who had 
not taken in Antonia’s sentence. The young speaker saw in 
a moment that no light had flashed from her words. So she 
tried again : ‘ The Son of God can bring us safe out of the 
fire, out of the water, and out of the grave ! ’ 

‘ Ah, that’s where we must look to be soon ! ’ said the 
old woman, and the old man looked up. 

‘ The Saviour can find you in your grave,’ said Antonia, 
‘ and raise you up to live with Him.’ 

‘ God grant it I God grant it ! ’ was the only response. 

How deep the delight, from time to time, as the summer 
days fled away, to read to such childlike listeners, ere they 
dropped from earthly life’s laden bough, of the resurrection 
of the dead, of the daughter of Israel’s Ruler, of the widow’s 
only son, and Lazarus, the friend of the Saviour, with all 
that St. John reveals in the Gospel and Apocalypse on the 
immortal theme ! This led on to speak of sin, and the fact 
of the sleepers in the dust arising, some to everlasting life, 
and some to shame and everlasting contempt. This brought 


134 


IHE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


a shade across the bright gleam that had lighted the distance ; 
then Antonia told them the Son of God had power on earth 
to forgive sins. To this truth they turned anxiously. They 
now realised the necessity of a preparation beyond any that 
they could attain ; a preparation for an event so definite as 
rising from the grave to meet the Son of God. And when 
Antonia went one day the old woman said, with fast-flowing 
tears, which she wiped with her apron away, ‘ Oh, I sit and 
cry — I often sit and cry — to think how innocent I have 
been all my life long of the know that you bring to me now 1 ’ 
And so, “ by precept upon precept, line upon line,” their 
spirits climbed the bright ascent of truth divine, until they 
waited at Heaven’s gate in prayer, and love, and hope, for 
entrance to be granted them- there. Antonia they looked 
upon as God’s blessing to them. When the winter returned 
they always feared every cold wind and snow-flake for her ; 
but the heat, frost, and storms, not seldom seem forbidden to 
hurt those who labour in Heaven’s ministry of love. 

Their small store of household and personal stuff was 
worn away in the service of a lifetime, and no thought of any 
possible replenishment seemed ever to have entered the mind 
of the lone cottagers, yet of the scanty stock that remained 
they were willing to give ! The old woman had two shawls 
in her possession ; one of coarse black cloth, hardly larger 
than a large-sized handkerchief, which pinned stiffly over her 
thin shoulders ; the other soft and pliant, of bright crimson, 
the shawl of her best days, now worn to thinness, but a 
pleasant garment to its last wearable fragment. When the 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


135 


winter set in, on Antonia’s entrance one day, the old woman 
hardly stopped to greet her before she ran to a drawer 
and brought out the crimson shawl, all quilted by her kind, 
careful fingers, into a thick, warm mat, which she laid be- 
neath Antonia’s feet, saying, ‘ ’Twill keep from the old 
bricks’ damp feel.’ Antonia had become the first object of 
their earthly affection, and their ministering care over her 
responded to hers over them. The crimson mat was always 
kept carefully in a drawer ; but from that day Antonia was 
never allowed to sit with her feet on the bricks. 

The aged people walked on like two gentle children hand 
in hand, in the pathway to Heaven, until one winter the old 
man entered his rest ; and the next his aged wife — whose 
tears ceased not to fiow for the lost companion of life until 
she found that she was going to follow where he had entered 
Ijefore — departed in heavenly peace, looking in blessing on 
all who drew near, murmuring day and night her childlike 
petitions to Heaven, and finally expiring with a smile of 
angelic joy upon her lips ; her finger pointed to the skies was 
the last conscious expression that she gave. 

We have looked forward to trace this glimpse of the cot- 
tage to its close, and must go back to the summer of Captain 
North’s return to his home. It was in the course of that 
summer that the Rector of the ‘ Alps ’ became too much 
weakened in mind to continue the one service in the church, 
which he had as long as possible always performed himself. 
All that he could be induced to consent to was to have a 
curate from the neighbouring town, engaged to take the single 


136 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


service on Sunday and the occasional work of the parish, 
Captain North obtained permission to make choice of the in- 
dividual. He succeeded in securing the services of a curate 
whose preaching he had listened to with interest, and gladly 
himself increased the amount of the offered stipend to insure 
his pastoral supervision in the week. 

‘ Now,’ thought the soldier, ‘ for an interval, at least, 
showers of blessing will fall on the “ Alps.” ’ But the re- 
sult did not answer his expectation, and long and anxiously 
did he ponder on the cause. The preaching of the truth was 
there, and the curate was one who “ gave himself to the read- 
ing of the Scriptures and to prayer,” but the poor gathered 
not to his feet, the sick listened not for his step, the whole 
heeded not his advice, the dying looked not up in thirsting 
expectation of blessing. This was the fact ; but the question 
of its cause was a difficult and painful one. In looking anx- 
iously on to discover the contradiction of the presence of 
Heavenly truth without its divine and ceaseless radiation 
around, there seemed but one answer, “ the love of the Spir it ” 
was not felt to be there : the breathing influence, the mag- 
netic tide attracting heart to heart, was not manifest ; the 

MEASURE OF ITS INDWELLING POWER WAS SO LOW AS NOT TO 
OVERFLOW THE SURFACE, it was hidden and unfelt ; the per* 
feet circle of heavenly influence was broken in the ministry 
of life, and that son of the church, when he gave up this tem- 
porary charge, could not feel that he had one soul there for 
his hire, one ransomed spirit for his crown of rejoicing ; when 
he quited the Alpine parish he did so unmourned, and un- 
blessed by the benedictions of the poor. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


137 


Mr. Beltimore, calling one day at the Hall in the sum- 
mer of Captain North’s return to his house, said to Miss 
North, ‘ 0, by the bye, I have had an application from a boy 
brought up in your school, the son of a tenant of mine. He 
says his father has bound him to a shoe-maker, which trade he 
abhors, and he entreats me to make inquiry into his capa- 
bility, and enable him to become a schoolmaster. I think I 
have the letter.’ 

Mr. Beltimore produced the letter. 

‘ Honoured Sir, 

‘ I have the humble hope you will remember me, as you 
have always bestowed your highly esteemed commendation 
upon me at the yearly school examinations, where, if I may 
be allowed to remind you, I was always at the head of my 
class, and received its first prize. I made my humble suit to 
Miss North, by whose benevolence I have tasted the first- 
fruits of learning, to aid with my father to continue me in 
the same line, for which, if I do not mistake, I have a natural 
capacity; but Miss North replied to my petition that she 
had undertaken the education of school, and could not con- 
tinue her benevolent patronage beyond it. My father turned 
a deaf ear to my entreaties, and has bound me to a shoe- 
maker. I forbear to speak of his unmerciful usage, only 
declaring that the, trade is one I must always hate and ab- 
hor ; and entreating of your generous benevolence to under- 
take in my behalf, giving my word and honour that if my 
life be prolonged and health to labour in a calling suited to 


138 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


my most earnest desires, I will not partake of any indulgencies 
beyond my absolute necessities, until I have repaid all that 
you, honoured sir, may have generously befriended me with. 
Humbly entreating your benevolent consideration of my 
earnest petition, 

‘ I remain, your most obedient servant, 

‘Jonas Ling.’ 

‘ A well-written and well- expressed composition for a lad,’ 
remarked Mr. Beltimore, as he concluded the letter. Anas- 
tasia spoke warmly in praise of the boy’s diligence and ac- 
quirements ; but added, that she had made it a rule to devote 
herself to the children of the school, and could not undertake 
to follow up education beyond this limit. The boy certainly 
was most promising, but she could not infringe upon her rule 
in his behalf. Anastasia did not seem to remember that 
those who profess themselves only stewards of all they possess, 
are not at liberty to bind themselves by any self-imposed 
rules ; their obligation is to look continually to the provi- 
dential direction of their Master and Lord, whose promise is 
given not to fixed rules, but to constant watchfulness : “I 
will guide thee with mine eye.” Anastasia did not consider 
that the very fact of what she had already done, might, in 
some cases, involve the Christian and expedient necessity of 
doing more ; she made a rule, and behind that rule she en- 
trenched herself, and so lost the field that a venture would 
have won ! 

Captain North remarked that such a lad, with a little 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


139 


more training, might grow into a promising schoolmaster for 
the children of the tenantry of Mr. Beltimore’s estate. 
Anastasia cooled down at this suggestion, as she did not wish 
to lose the few pupils who came from that parish to he 
taught in her school, nor the five guineas which Mr. Belti- 
more contributed yearly to her funds; but Mr. Beltimore 
finally departed, saying, he should certainly be on the look- 
out for an opportunity of befriending the boy. 

When the autumn of that year closed in, Harry North 
had settled down as a resident at home. A pleasant western 
room had been fitted up as his study, and each one in his 
house bore some part in its tasteful decoration. Hours of 
the day were spent there in communion with the great 
thoughts of the great minds strewn along the pathway of 
Time ; and though now in his manhood, he stood like a child 
at the feet of the Infinite, looking up to Almighty Wisdom 
for counsel and light, the glimmer of his finite intellect he 
linked by affiance with the knowledge of “ the Ancient of 
Days,” by this means gaining certain refreshment and bless- 
ing at every step of advance ; while the deep waters of truth, 
human and divine, that flowed through his soul spread their 
fertilising influence on all around. 

The knowledge that is learned at the feet of the ‘ All- 
wise ’ is purged of all selfish absorption ; therefore, he who 
chose to learn all things only there, had a spirit always free 
for the social ties of home and the relative charities of life ; 
the son never forgot the times when his father might look for 
his presence, or his mother most enjoy a stroll supported by 


140 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


his arm, and the brother was the thoughful rememberer of the 
wants and the wishes of his sisters. From every point the 
love and the kindness he rendered, beamed back again on 
him in brightness and blessing. 

The little Leonore he often won to his study, and tried 
to lead her on to a higher mental elevation, but though her 
young spirit had become a light in the dwelling, she grew 
very slowly out of childhood ; her mind having been early 
pressed with more than it had space to accommodate, its 
faculties remained at a diminutive expansion, but these had 
been happily saved from a hopeless interment, and were all 
alive and awake, so that she became a little faithful attend- 
ant, always on the watch for occasions of service, devoted to 
her brother, Antonia, and her parents, and kind and attentive 
to every one ; a little joyous bird, whose absent presence 
would have been a lost melody which every heart must have 
missed. Clara, under her brother’s influence, added the 
study of the Bible to her other pursuits. But the educa- 
tional habit of her mind held its powerful sway; she ac- 
quired the biblical dates, collated the various narratives of 
the same event, and began the study of Greek and Hebrew ; 
but all unaccustomed to enter the lonely recesses of truth, 
to wait and watch while its secret unfoldings were revealed, 
she did not appear to gain more than added intellectual ac- 
quirement. And yet there were times when she thought of 
Bill Briggen and the tempestuous seas of that dark wintry 
night ; and at those times, led on by a fresh awakening of 
feeling, she opened her heart to the heavenly record, and 
received a faint glimpse of light and love from its depths. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


141 


On Miss Keymer’s return after the holidays, she had 
found it impossible to re-establish the schoolroom routine. 
Clara was still generally there, more from habit than any 
longer existing necessity ; but Leonore was continually read- 
ing with her brother, or riding with her papa, or sitting 
with Antonia in Mrs. North’s morning-room. Miss Key- 
mer’s conscientious mind became uneasy ; her salary was a 
high one, and she felt her services were now most inade- 
quate to their recompense. One morning when Antonia 
and Leonore were out, riding with General North, Miss 
Keymer made her way to Mrs. North’s morning-room. 
It was the first time she had ventured there of her own' 
accord ; she was constrained to do so by her wish to see 
Mrs. North alone, her delicacy of mind dreaded the sudden 
liberality of the General’s probably uncalculating decision, 
and her refinement of feeling shrank no less from the un- 
certainty as to the comments that might proceed from 
Miss North, so she knocked at the door. She heard the 
high-toned ‘ Come in,’ and entered the room. Mrs. North 
was reposing on her couch, the Bible open before her, and 
Antonia’s and Leonore’s Bibles both lay open near, as left 
by the children when they ran to answer the General’s sud- 
den summons. It was a sight quite new to Miss Keymer, 
and in a moment her thoughts glanced from those open 
Bibles to the morning and evening prayer, and then back to 
the woods and Antonia’s look up to Heaven ; but all was 
the glance of a moment, and she began an apology for in- 
trusion; then she met the softened tone of Mrs. North’s 


142 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


kind expression of feeling and approval, her decided refusal 
to entertain for a moment Miss Keymer’s proposal for leav- 
ing, and her frank confession of regret that the work of the 
schoolroom should ever have been made so burdensome as 
it had been to Miss Keymer and her pupils in the years that 
were past. Miss Keymer left the room relieved and satis- 
fied ; but the deepest impression she bore away was of those 
open Bibles, and it seemed to her as if the tone of warm 
feeling she had met must have breathed from the Bible’s 
open page. 

And so the household settled quietly down. The Gen- 
eral bore the aspect of one who was silently passing through 
some deep transition of feeling, awaking to questionings 
never aroused before, and determined to consider and follow 
out their unfolding. His spirit, once strong in opposition, 
had humbled itself beneath the word of the Eternal ; who 
could doubt but that word would breathe peace, shining on 
the soul’s earthly deadness and darkness, until it enkindled 
within it the life and light of Heaven ? 

And so, as the weight of years descended on the parents 
of that English home, a blessing more than earthly was 
given, enriching them with a happiness they had not known 
before. The soldier-son and the orphan Antonia had been 
the first stars whose more than earthly shining had witnessed 
of Heaven ; and now, one by one, all were enkindling by 
Him who “ calleth them all by their names,” who leads 
forth the bright host of the skies, “ for that He is strong in 
power, not one faileth ! ” 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE 


143 


CHAPTEK IX. 

* The Alpine patron is dead ! ’ exclaimed Captain North, 
one morning as he glanced over the newspaper record of 
mortality, ‘ “ Sir Roger de Lee, aged eighty-two.” I won- 
der who will be his heir ? ’ 

‘ He has no son,’ replied the General ; ‘ but I remember 
hearing of a daughter, married and living abroad.’ 

‘ Alas ! not much brightening of hope for the Alpine 
Church,’ said the Captain with a sigh, and the subject 
dropped. 

The Alpine parish was wildly irregular in landscape, 
here and there a little hamlet lay sheltered in a retreating 
valley, or hung suspended among its blossoming orchards 
from a hill’s sloping summit. The river that flowed through 
the beechwoods intersected this parish, crossed by rustic 
bridges of village workmanship, and one for laden waggons 
of solid masonry. On a hill’s sloping summit there stood 
an old dwelling of Elizabethan style, it was called the 
moated Grange, a dry fosse encircling its garden ground 
around it. Climbing over the brow of the hill and reaching 
down on the other side, grew a forest of pine-trees, the 
depth of this dark wood gave a gloomy aspect to the place, 
not relieved by the dilapidated state of the dwelling. It 


144 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


was occupied by the farmer who cultivated the land that lay 
around. When that winter frost gave way, there was a stir 
in the stagnation of the Koger de Lee estate. The farmer 
occupying the moated Grange was the steward of the prop- 
erty ; he began to build a house ,on a spot better suited to 
his personal convenience in the centre of the barns and 
stables where the old farm-house had originally stood ; and 
at the same time he carried on repairs at the Grange. It 
was rumoured that the widowed daughter of Sir Koger de 
Lee was coming herself to reside on the property. 

Every report of change in a country neighbourhood has 
its interest for all, and its importance in the estimation of 
some ; this report that the proprietress was coming into 
residence was canvassed on all sides. With Miss North, 
it became, for the time, the one topic of the day. Now 
Miss North had no wings by which to poise herself in 
the mid-air of suspense, she was therefore compelled to 
alight somewhere; but as the firm basis of facts is, for 
the most part, of very slow elevation above the changeful 
sea of supposition. Miss North took the course very gene- 
rally adopted of getting together all the information she 
could, and believing it all ‘ matter of fact,’ whereas, in truth, 
it sometimes had scarcely a trustworthy atom in its whole 
composition. In the first place. Miss North had something 
to say on the subject to every one she conversed with; 
they in return told her all they had heard, and gratified at 
her evident interest in listening — a somewhat rare event — 
the speaker often added personal conjecture ; all this, when 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


145 


Miss North reported it herself, had assumed the nature of 
fact / In addition to this, Miss North had of course her 
own suppositions, inferences from surmises, and opinions 
formed from these two incontrovertible sources ; these, 
when she had given them expression a few times, settled 
down into the looser surface of probable certainties, until, 
had she taken the trouble to transmit the whole com- 
position to writing, the widowed daughter of Sir Roger 
de Lee might have perused it as an interesting fragment, 
but probably would hardly have been persuaded that it 
bore any affinity to herself. But then, as Miss North fre- 
quently remarked, “ People do not know themselves,” a 
statement lamentably true ; and this might be the reason 
why, if the document had been prepared and forwarded, the 
widowed daughter of Sir Roger de Lee might have failed to 
recognise herself in the narrative. 

Miss North made constant inquiry as to the progress 
jf preparation at the old moated Grange ; she had her own 
ideas as to the circumstantials essential to ‘ any one with 
any pretensions to society,’ and these not being met by the 
facts of the case, she one morning gave out her opinion 
that the whole affair of the widowed daughter of Sir 
Roger de Lee coming into residence would most probably 
turn out a mere fiction of gossip; at which Clara very 
quietly said, ‘ 0 ! I forgot to tell you, I heard yesterday 
that she was come ! ’ 

* Come ! impossible, Clara ! I don’t believe it ! Who 
told you ? and when did she come ? ’ 

7 


146 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ I really cannot say when she came ; hut Chetwind told 
me last evening, that she heard she was come.’ 

‘ How very odd of Chetwind not to mention it to me ! 
I really will see what can be learned about it ; it is not my 
nature to let such an important event, as the residence of the 
patroness, pass by uninquired into.’ 

We need not follow Miss North in her inquiries, nor 
draw our information from her conclusions; apart from 
these, it was a fact that Mrs. Barrington, the widowed 
daughter of Sir Roger de Lee, was come, and was occupy- 
ing the moated Grange. 

‘ I suppose, mamma, you will not think of calling upon 
Mrs. Barrington, — not, at all events, until we know some- 
thing more about her ? ’ 

^ ‘ I think,’ replied Mrs. North, ‘ we know quite enough to 
venture a call. We know that she is a widow lady, occupy- 
ing a house on her property here.’ 

‘ Yes, but such a place to come to reside in — that dreary 
old moated Grange ! she must, to' say the least, be a very 
eccentric person. I hear that books and pictures are come 
without end, but not a single upholsterer has set foot in the 
house ! There will be quite a feeling of iil-will among the 
tradespeople about it.’ 

‘ My dear Anastasia, I hope the tradespeople trouble 
themselves a great deal less than you do with other people’s 
concerns ; if not, they must be subject to endless perturba- 
tion, out of which we cannot help them. I can only say, I 
shall most certainly call at the Grange.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


147 


A few days after this conversation, Mrs. North was out 
in the carriage with Clara and Antonia, and ordered the 
coachman to drive to the G-range, not supposing that Anas- 
tasia felt any particular wish to pay this much-questioned 
visit. The carriage entered through the decaying gates, and 
drew up at the door. A superannuated bell received two or 
three brisk pulls from the footman, and the door was opened 
by an elderly man, who, on observing Mrs. North, gave a 
soldier’s salute. Mrs. Barrington was at home. Mrs. 
North, Clara, and Antonia, followed the aged servant 
through a considerable length of passages, until he left 
them in a capacious apartment with whitewashed walls and 
black door. A sofa near an open window, which commanded 
a most lovely view, offered an inviting seat : in a few mo- 
ments a rather elderly lady entered the room, and received 
her visitors with frank cordiality. One glance at Mrs. Bar- 
rington was sufficient to raise Mrs. North’s estimation to no 
ordinary level. Small in figure, dignified in her whole de- 
portment, with a bright intelligence of countenance, over 
which a shadowy sadness rested, giving a softened depth to 
all its varying expression. There was no lack of animated 
conversation, and on taking leave, Mrs. North said ven- 
turingly, ‘ If we, as old residents, could meet any require- 
ments you may find unprovided for, it would give us much 
pleasure ! ’ Mrs. Barrington responded warmly, but added 
with a smile, ‘ I have been long enough used to a roving life 
to have acquired an independence of much that to others 
would be essential. I found ray tent ready pitched, and I 


148 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE* 


was soon settled in it.’ Then looking with her kindling 
smile upon Antonia and Clara, she said, ^ It is long since any 
young life has been associated with me, but it will give me 
pleasure to know more of those who have so kindly called on 
me to-day.’ Antonia’s speaking eyes looked a reply. 

Contrary to expectation, Anastasia was amazed at the visit 
having been made without her; but Mrs. North cut that 
thread of discussion short at once with more than usual reso- 
lution ; and gave so attractive a description of Mrs. Barring- 
ton that the General protested he should be under the neces- 
sity of ringing up the old soldier, in the hope of gaining ad- 
mittance himself. But in a few days an old-fashioned coach, 
drawn by black horses, drove up through the beech- woods; 
it bore the Roger De Lee arms, and Mrs. Barrington was 
ushered into the drawing-room. 

The conversation in the evening turned on the new resi- 
dent. General North had been charmed by her. Her dig- 
nified benignity and decision, combined with the cultivation 
of mind acquired by a life of travel and accurate observa- 
tion, marked her as one that none could pass by unobserved, 
and satisfied to the utmost the General’s quick penetration. 
To Anastasia’s great regret, she missed this return visit; 
and her surprise was equally great that no one had question- 
ed the new resident as to her intentions and plans ; but her 
father replied to her regrets by saying, ‘ I advise you to be 
careful how you venture too far, Anastasia ; you will not find 
Mrs. Barrington one to put up with inquisitive impertinence ! ’ 

Now and then Anastasia got a decided set-down from her 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


149 


])arcnts, but it only annoyed for the moment, for the heart 
that has outgrown its childhood must root out its own faults; 
no reproof from without can weaken their hold without a 
cqrresponding effort from within. 

Captain North’s flickering hopes now began to burn up 
brightly for that beloved Alpine parish. 

It was not long before Mrs. North proposed to invite the 
new resident to a social dinner, and the General insisted on 
carrying the invitation. He rode in at the heavy old gate 
with Antonia, the old soldier who opened the door said his 
mistress was out ^ thinning the woods ; ’ they rode on to find 
her ; there she stood among the tall straight stems of the fir- 
trees, with another old veteran beside her, in his jacket of 
faded scarlet, cleaving away with his bill-hook at the thick 
undergrowth of laurel and seringa as if he were cutting a 
passage for ammunition waggons through a forest : and a 
woodman beside her, marking at her direction the trees that 
must fall to open the view of the lovely landscape beyond. 

‘ Our favourite will people the land with old soldiers ! 
said the General to Antonia. Meanwhile the one left at the 
door of the Grange was stepping after them, lured on irre- 
sistibly by the sight of the old war-horse, ‘ and such a young 
thing upon him, and he after nothing but minding her hand,’ 
and the veteran with the bill-hook fixed his eyes on the same 
object of attraction. Mrs. Barrington greeted her visitors, 
adding, ‘ You have found me at my trade, letting in air, light, 
and view ! Is not that our work here ? ’ she asked with a 
bright, inquiring look, and the General responded by silence ; 


150 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


for he felt there was a deeper meaning in her words than 
the laying a laurel-hush, or even a forest pine-tree, low. Mrs. 
Barrington accepted the pressing invitation, and the whole 
family party looked forward to the anticipated evening with 
interest and pleasure. 

In Mrs. Barrington’s presence you felt at once that she 
was far above studying the polite or playing the agreeable, 
and yet Mrs. Barrington was both polite and agreeable. 
Her outward deportment was not one of those polished sur- 
faces on which the commonplaces of general society can roll 
smoothly in interchanging play, leaving everything exactly 
as before, with the exception of the additional weariness in- 
separable from all earthly monotonies. Mrs. Barrington’s 
external grace was not that of a statue, which, having been 
finished off by art, continues in perpetuity the same ; but the 
subtle charm that you cannot define, emanating from the in- 
telligent, responsive spirit within, and transmitting its high 
moral independence of feeling in expression. A heart she 
had whose sympathies had been exercised from childhood, 
and deepened in no ordinary degree by personal and relative 
trial. Neither had her mental faculties been laid on the 
shelf ; on the contrary, they had been kept constantly awake 
and active, no less than the moral powers of her soul ; she 
maintained therefore through life a completeness of character, 
the natural result of which was quickness of apprehension 
and readiness of judgment. Such a character could not but 
rise to a higher elevation of influence, than those whose train- 
ing and habits leave them permanently one-sided, the moral 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


151 


powers called alone into the arena of life, and the mental 
dismissed under the delusion of their not being equally prac- 
tical, or the mental developed, and the moral starved into 
mere spectral shadows. A character firm as Mrs. Barring- 
ton’s in the integrity of all its powers, was strong in its 
gentleness as in its truth ; but because it was true, it was 
turned from by those who loved not the searchings of truth. 

Mrs. Barrington paid her first evening visit to the Hall. 
She blended with the family circle with so natural an ease, 
that she seemed almost like one of themselves. The evening 
hours glided away without the aid of music, or any of those 
auxiliaries generally useful as a pleasant substitute for the 
effort of making conversation. It would have been interest 
enough on that evening to occupy the post of observation 
alone, for it was no everyday circle assembled in that country 
drawing-room, and the guest in the midst possessed the rare 
and happy power of drawing out to “ air, light, and view,” 
the minds around her; skilful in calling forth the harmony 
of mind, she seemed to know the kindred points to touch 
and how by listening silence to let the harmony flow on until 
it rose to its full measure, or by a sudden and efiective turn 
she would repress a discord, while she was not herself unready 
with pleasant force to fill up the parts which her own mind 
could best supply. 

It was natural to attribute the evening’s enjoyment en- 
tirely to Mrs. Barrington’s most agreeable society, but the 
fact was that each one, Mrs. Barrington included, had been 
refreshed, by opening and expanding in the sunshine of genial 


152 


THE MfNlSTEY OF LIFE. 


and reciprocal feeling. Miss North alone had been kept 
rather on the stretch, watching for an opportunity to turn 
the swift stream of conversation into some one or other of 
the little ready-made canals or natural creeks she had always 
in view ; but the stream flowed on, and Miss North was dis- 
appointed. The three juniors of the party were left to occupy 
their youthful places of listening observation; they were 
happy in it, each one according to their nature. Antonia, 
accustomed from her childhood to hush her very breathing 
to listen and look upon the beautiful and true, wherever 
gleaming forth around her, had a silent, deep communion, in 
thought and feeling, with all that possessed native interest, 
which rendered her very independent of any personal appeal 
for enjoyment ; so she spread her little spiritual sail of trans- 
parent feeling on the broad stream of conversation, and was 
wafted on by every breath of utterance. Clara was satisfied, 
because she could quietly moor her bark, and listen or muse 
abstractedly, without any fear of confluent tides. And Leo- 
nore, innocently unconscious of most of the various topics 
and their relative merits, folded her little wings upon the 
bank, and was happy, because, as the stream of conversation 
passed her by, it flowed all untroubled and bright. 

It was quite evident that evening that the link of a friend- 
ship was fastened not likely to be unbound again. 

Some weeks passed away. Mrs. Barrington had more 
than once repeated her social evening visit to the Beechwood 
Hall, and now she invited her friends there to spend an 
evening with her at the Grange. A little carpenter’s work 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


153 


and fresh painting had effaced the forlorn look that before 
hung about the exterior of the old moated Grange, constant 
mowing was softening the lawns, and the whole aspect of the 
place already told of a higher influence reigning around. 
The old soldier, who opened the door, had evidently done his 
best on that evening to show honour to his guests by his per- 
sonal appearance, or more probably to stand up in his place 
worthy of his mistress : he conducted the party to a room 
now Anally prepared as Mrs. Barrington’s sitting room. The 
hall and passages still retained their whitewash, and the 
doors their black paint; but on entering the room the 
visitors almost forgot that they were still in the old moated 
Grange, the long low apartment presented so attractive an 
aspect. The walls had been coloured with pale green, and 
were hung with paintings, from whose canvas youth and 
beauty, manhood and age, rivalled the living group below. 
The three windows were curtained with old embroideries, 
whose richly-wrought fantastic devices gave a picturesque 
variety that added not a little to the whole effect. Low 
bookshelves stood round the room in front of the wainscot ; 
tables of different descriptions, old-fashioned chairs and set- 
tees, completed the furniture of the apartment ; a covered 
harp stood in one corner. 

Heartfelt was the welcome Mrs. Barrington gave, and 
heartfelt was the response it received. A feeling of enchant- 
ment stole over the guests, as, with all the past associations 
of the dreary old place still full in remembrance, they took 
th )ir seats on those old-fashioned settees and chairs of differ* 
7 * 


154 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

ent kinds, while from the hearth-rug a noble St. Bernard 
raised his calm, benevolent eye of inquiry and welcome. 
They felt in all around the intellectual and elevated tone of 
the being whose dignified sweetness of deportment gave the 
living charm to the whole. 

The two old soldiers in waiting soon entered bearing cof- 
fee, served in little costly old cups, with the curious old silver 
of the Roger de Lee family. 

General North’s attention was attraeted by the picture 
over the mantelpiece ; it was that of a very aged man, whose 
eyes and hands were raised as in act of supplication. 

‘Was that your father?’ the General at length asked, 
in a tone whose deep feeling could only make the inquiry 
welcome. 

‘ Yes : it is a portrait done from recollection by a friend, 
an artist who saw him often, and not seldom in prayer. It 
seems almost too sacred for a general room ; but the fact is, 
I have received you in the one which I have prepared as my 
own constant sitting-room, and I could not part with that 
picture from my presence.’ And then, seeing the interest 
depicted in the countenances of the two gentlemen and 
Mrs. North, as their glance followed her own around the 
room, Mrs. Barrington went on to say, ‘ The one above my 
writing-table is a portrait of my husband, Lieut. -General 
Barrington ; the one on the left is of my son, who fell before 
his father ; and that on the right a picture of my only daugh- 
ter when an infant; she, too, sleeps in a foreign land.’ 

‘ Bereft of all ? ’ exclaimed the General. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 155 

‘ I would rather say, I have seen all taken home ! ’ 

Mrs. Barrington met the deep interest awakened in hei 
guests by relating to the General and Mrs. North a few par- 
ticulars of the last years of her father’s life, during which 
she had been his constant companion. Other portraits 
adorned the walls, but no further inquiry was made. A sub- 
dued feeling had fallen on her guests, and Mrs. Barrington 
had to make one or two attempts before she succeeded in 
awakening the conversation into a general flow again. The 
little antique silver urn was soon brought in ; Antonia, at 
Mrs. Barrington’s request, made the tea, while Leonore, who, 
with Miss Keymer, was also of the party, stepped in and out 
of the circle, happy in her office of cup-bearer. ^ 

As the evening advanced, Captain North, seeing the 
harp, ventured to ask whether Mrs. Barrington played on 
that instrument. 

^ No, I never play now ! And that harp was never mine ; 
it belonged to the one treasure still left me on earth — the 
friend of my youth ! She is now a resident with her hus- 
band in India, and her harp has been always where I was 
since my return to England; its strings break one by one, 
and so many are broken that I never venture to uncover it 
now, for I could not let any one restore what her fingers last 
strung. I have paid dearly for the relic, for every chord 
that gives way sends a vibration through me that I do not 
easily recover ; but they must be mostly gone now, and some 
day she may come to restore them. That is her picture,’ 
continued Mrs. Barrington, turning to a portrait that hung 


156 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


on the wall, on which each one had looked many times since 
they entered the -room: ‘the young girl looking up to her 
face is her only child left in England under her paternal un- 
cle’s care.’ 

It was a picture to look upon in silence, but once seen 
to be never forgotten — the bending elegance of the maternal 
figure, combined with its breathing majesty of mien; the 
depth of expression, full of mournful thought as it gazed 
down upon the child ; and the radiant child in the rosy bloom 
of life’s morning, the long golden ringlets flowing back over 
her shoulders of snow, and the glance of her eyes of light and 
love as they seemed raised in appeal to her mother — there 
was a spirituality about the picture that left all its material- 
ism a completely secondary element, winning the eye again 
and again with the fascination of actual life. 

The evening drew to its close ; it had been one not only 
to charm, but to soften and deepen the heart ; and warm were 
the parting farewells. Mrs. Barrington invited Clara to 
come and spend a day with her alone ; Clara was surprised, 
but received the invitation with pleasure. As Antonia passed 
out last from the. room, Mrs. Barrington drew the orphan 
within her arm and kissed her. 

On one of these summer days, the Alpine bell tolled for 
a funeral ; it was the burial of a young man who died after a 
few days’ illness ; his mother wept so bitterly above his grave 
that the curate delayed his return to the town, that he might 
pay her a visit of sympathy. Soon after the funeral he went 
to the house, and found the parents alone. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


157 


* If I had known of your son’s hopeless illness 1 rould 
have come over to see him ! ’ 

‘ Thank you, sir ; I did put it to him, but he had no mind 
for it.’ 

^ Did he then keep in the same hardened state to th<^ 
last ? ’ 

‘ Well, sir,’ said the mourning mother, 'he never was a 
hardened sinner ; he was the kindest child I had, and a good 
word would draw him any day from his own worser way — 
only then he turned back to it again ! ’ 

‘ I spoke to him more than once,’ said the curate, ‘ but I 
fear without any effect.’ 

‘ Well, sir, if I may be so bold now the earth is above 
him, poor boy ! he laid it to heart you should turn upon 
him as you did. That time as you first came — ’tis as fresh 
in my thoughts as yesterday — when you see’d some young- 
sters was getting over the pales as you passed by to the 
church, and you threatened them all with the constable ; he 
never would go to church from that day, for he said he never 
knew a parson came to help folks up afore a justice ! And 
sure and certain, I believe if you had given him a good word, 
he would have turned and followed you in like a lamb ; but 
he never would mind for bnd words — ^his spirit was up in no 
time against them ! ’ 

‘ But I did call only a few weeks ago, and talked to him 
most kindly, and urged him to come to church, and turn 
from his bad ways.’ 

* Yes, sir ; and never a poor lad was nearer saved than 


158 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


my poor boy was then. 0, ’tis killing to think on ! the very 
next Sunday morning he said his mind was made up ; he was 
all dressed, up to his hat, and ready to go to church. Now 
mother,” says he to me, I’ll see if the parson really has a 
care whether I go or not. I’ll stand here in our doorway all 
ready for church ; and if he has a care, he’ll remember all 
them words he said to me, and give a look as he passes to see 
if I have minded ’em, and am coming.” Well, sir, there he 
stood as you passed by to the church, and you never so much 
as cast eyes on the cottage nor on him ; a word or a look 
would have saved him that day, but you never gave either. 
He turned right in and said, “ Mother, ’tis all trade in the 
parson ! he cares never the worth of a look whether I minded 
his words or not, so no more preaching for me ! ” He threw 
off his coat, and from that day he was, as you may say, a lost 
lad ! Poor child ! I’ve cried my heart dry for him, for, as I 
always shall say, a look would have saved him ; and now, 
God above only knows where my poor boy bides for ever, 
but his mother will never list the church-bell ring out with- 
out a broken heart over him.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


159 


CHAPTER X. 

Most of tlie residents in the neighbourhood had at once 
followed Mrs. North s example, and called at the Grange. 
Among these was a Mrs. Astell and her daughter Laura. 
Laura was rather a noted person in the society of that neigh- 
bourhood. She was an only child and had grown up the 
victim, not of over-pressure, but of idleness. A clever child, 
averse to the effort of continued application ; one of those 
to whom the discipline of regulated occupation would have 
been invaluable. She had none of Antonia’s conceptive 
power, and therefore not to be left as Antonia was, to follow 
out her own education, with any hope of like results ; neither 
had she that which often accompanies conceptive power, 
mental faculties so lightly hung that even moderate coercion 
affects permanently their delicate balance. She possessed 
the quickness that belongs to cleverness, and the tension of 
mind that would have enabled her to keep her powers of ap- 
plication in moderately enforced exercise without injury. 
Any experienced observer noticing the child would have dis- 
covered that there was no gushing spring of thought within, 
no meditative contemplation which asked to be guided in its 
own development, rather than supplanted from without; 


160 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


these were not, but there was a clever quickness, which 
flashed for a moment on that which came in contact with it, 
and then went out. Laura’s parents did not weigh this im- 
portant distinction, and because the child was cleverly quick, 
they gladly acted on the self-indulgent belief that there was 
no necessity for enforced application. 

Laura’s governess was not blinded by the fond delusion 
of the child’s parents ; she saw that steady application was 
essential to Laura’s character, but she could not enforce it ; 
and she had not the wit to win her to it. Day after day she 
set the child the same tasks, and reasoned with her in the 
same tone ; until Laura, in the irritation of tired-out impa- 
tience, dashed her school-books away and rushed out of the 
room. Could that well-meaning governess, unaided as she 
was by authority, have only fallen back on her own mental 
resources, and striking out a line attractive in freshness, 
have engaged the child’s heart by some intelligent natural 
pursuit, content to leave grammars, and catechisms, and 
skeleton epitomes on the shelf, she might have beguiled the 
child into interest and knowledge ; and as the habit of atten- 
tion and the thirst for information increased, tougher appli- 
cation might not in the end have been rejected ; without 
this the case was hopeless. 

Could Laura have been transferred in her childhood to 
Mrs. North’s unyielding enforcement of school discipline, the 
result would probably have been equally a failure, because 
the child did not possess the negative receptive power which 
would have enabled her to prose on in unchanging acquire- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


161 


ment. Minds must be trained like plants, in accordance with 
their nature, or the guardians and instructors of childhood 
must find themselves outdone by the nurseryman and florist. 

Laura had equally grown up without a single well-di- 
rected effort having been made to call forth her unselfish 
sympathies, or to discipline her heart in moral duties and 
obligations ; mentally and morally she was undisciplined and 
uncultivated, with a wild and vagrant growth of nature, that 
sometimes gave mournful glimpses of- what, if trained by wis- 
dom’s hand, she might have been. 

To any mind accustomed from childhood to consult its 
own will and please itself alone, satiety of all things must be 
the unavoidable result. Laura having no object in life but 
her own amusement, often found the stagnation around her 
almost insupportable. She had seen the same faces, heard 
the same tone of conversation, received the same ready-made 
compliments, until she declared that she knew how every one 
was going to look, the attitudes and movements that would 
best exhibit their studied gracefulness, and the tenor of all 
they would say. ‘ Who would not be wearied into dullness 
itself under such an amount of knowledge, mamma ? It 
would be an inexpressible relief if I had not a memory, that 
all this everlasting flat of society might sometimes look fresh 
instead of always resenting the perpetuity of sameness ! ’ 

Laura at length devised a palliative remedy ; she seized 
on her imaginative faculty, and compelled it into her ser- 
vice. Her native powers had not, like those of Anastasia 
and Clara, been submerged by a weight of acquirement ; on 


162 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


the contrary, they were utterly without ballast, threatening 
the wr^ck of the vessel whose prosperous voyage they ought 
to have aided. Laura had, as clever people have, a quick 
perception in any particular line to which they especially 
direct their attention, and she set to work, by her own ac- 
count, “ to strike out a few sparks from the smouldering 
embers of general society.” She discovered every one’s par- 
ticular failing, and showed them up, as she declared, to ad- 
miration. It was done with a gravity of assumed interest, 
only sometimes betrayed by the mischief that danced in her 
eye ; and she guarded her attempts so well that, if discovered, 
she could, with the aid of more or less effrontery, make good 
her retreat into the stronghold of a wish for information ; 
though every one was perfectly aware that information was 
the very last wish Laura Astell entertained, except on such 
points as aided her personal entertainment. Anastasia North 
presented a capital mark, because, being engrossed with her 
own doings and her own opinions, she could the more read- 
ily be set off and shown up. Anastasia sometimes found 
herself fairly caught, and publicly confused, but her self-as- 
surance soon enabled her to recover self-possession, which 
her antagonist always allowed her very readily to do, desir- 
ing nothing more than to triumph in passing, by swamping 
the subject of discussion in momentary folly. Another kind 
of trap was laid for Clara. Laura would get up beforehand 
the technicalities of some abstruse subject, of which she in 
reality understood nothing, and watching a favourable op- 
portunity for observation, address inquiries to Clara which 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


163 


grounded her entirely, and set her labouring mind at work 
for days or weeks to come ; often in the end discovering 
that the poser was a mere fiction, the thin disguise of which 
she had not, at the precise given point, possessed knowledge 
sufficient to penetrate. Poor Clara, whose wit had not a 
crevice left to look out from in her overstored mind, knew 
not how to get the better of her merciless persecutor. To 
entrap Antonia cost Laura many a weary scheme ; but in 
vain, and she was compelled to make it her constant aim to 
have Antonia in the distance, to prevent the possibility of 
her entering the lists to the rescue. ^ Now, my dear An- 
tonia, I do entreat you not to fix upon me the full gaze of 
those orbicular eyes; they have such a fascination, that they 
paralyse all my powers of comprehension ! ’ but the playful 
reproof in the shake of Antonia’s head did not leave Laura 
the victory. Confessing this one day to her mother, Laura 
added, ‘ But I don’t mind being foiled by Antonia ! I have 
nothing to say against freshness, I only hunt those who run 
in a groove : it is such fun to see how they wear down the 
same channel deeper and deeper, until they cannot reach up 
even to peep over the side ; then they not only run hopeless- 
ly on, but get at last to believe that all desirable things are 
comprehended for evermore between their own two straight 
lines ! ’ 

Mrs. Barrington’s residence at the Grange was an event 
of more than usual interest for Laura, the place had looked 
from her childhood utterly lost and forlorn, and the fact of 
the proprietress suddenly turning it into a country residence, 


164 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


without any notable transformations, held out a hope that 
something more than common might be the result. ‘ Even 
take it at the worst, and suppose the resident proprietress an 
absolute miser, still that is not a character that you meet 
with every day, at least in its extremes ; and any variety 
must be a refreshment, when the chief misery is unchangeable 
monotony such was Laura’s declaration. ^ Let her be what 
she will, mamma, at all events it is a novelty until we have 
seen her, and I feel grateful for the slight eddy she has in- 
fused in the universal stagnation.’ 

Laura persuaded her mamma to make an early call at the 
Grange. On their way home they drove through the beech- 
woods to call on Mrs. North. It happened to be the day after 
Mrs. Barrington’s invitation to the Grange had been accepted 
by Mrs. North. 

‘ Now, mamma,’ said Laura, before going in, ‘ whatever 
you doj if Anastasia be in the room, don’t let out that we 
have been to the Grange ! Mrs. North is pretty sure not to 
ask you, at all events not in curiosity’s hurry ; and you ob- 
serve, I will sit as far as possible from Anastasia, and you 
will see she will make her way up to me in no time, with the 
Grange in broad text on her face I ’ 

Accordingly Laura took her seat at a far-off window with 
Clara. Anastasia, who liked to be first with a younger rather 
than second with an elder, made her way along the length of 
the room to Laura, with an instant inquiry, ‘ Have you called 
at the Grange ? ’ 

‘ Yes, we called there this morning.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


165 


‘ Was Mrs. Barrington at home ? ’ 

‘ She was within the ruin, if that may be called being “ at 
home ! ” ’ 

‘ Yes ; is it not strange that she should not study appear- 
ance a little more, than to inhabit a place in such a condition ? ’ 

‘ Particularly strange ; most unusual to set appearance so 
entirely at naught ! ’ 

* But, Laura, did you sec her ? * 

* Yes, the answer was “ at home ; ” so of course Mrs. Bar- 
rington presented herself.’ 

‘ What did you think of her ? papa and mamma are delight- 
ed with her ; but Mr. Beltimore said, that though he certain- 
ly had not much opportunity of judging, as several other peo- 
ple were calling at the same time with him, he must say he 
thought her a little too high for whitewashed walls ! But 
what did you think ? ’ 

‘ 0, excuse my thoughts on the subject ; they are so pe- 
culiar and unusual that I mean to publish them separately. 

^ Nonsense ! do tell me.’ 

‘ My dear Anastasia, I stake the credit of all my good sense 
in not making over my opinion as a third, to be tacked on to 
the two you already possess, for the bewilderment of the next 
head you may question ; which possibly might not be so strong 
a one as yours or mine, and so hardly able to hold its own 
against your treble infusion.’ 

‘ Really, Laura, 1[t is a perpetual trial of all patience to 
talk with you.’ 

0, pardon me, I will answer you with all frankness. I 


166 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


thought Mrs. Barrington, as you remarked just now, strange 
ly peculiar.’ 

‘ Well, she struck me as being so, but I have not yet had 
her at all to myself; did she talk to you ? ’ 

‘ 0 no, I left the shuttlecock to her and mamma.’ 

‘ Mrs. Barrington has invited us all to spend an evening 
with her next week,’ continued Anastasia. ‘ I confess I feel 
curious to see what sort of reception we shall have ! * 

‘ 0, bottle it all up for me ! don’t let it lose anything, 
not even an opinion or inference, before I come to drink it 
all in. But mamma will be departing ; we have been so 
unfortunate as to find all our friends at home, which hurries 
us a little, and I want to arrange with you for a pic-nic.’ 

This conversation had passed before the evening visit to 
the Grange : that visit was no sooner over than Laura Astell 
made an early call to hear all particulars. Even Clara 
warmed up in description, but Anastasia had felt herself 
evidently in the background. 

‘ Really, Anastasia, 1 would not hold off in this way if 
I were you. Mrs. Barrington looks good enough to be 
delighted with your charities. I would advise you to step 
forward a little, and invite her at once to your school. At 
present it seems that Mrs. Barrington has found no point in 
common with you — never even appealed to you, and yet you 
confess that you believe her to be charitable like yourself ! 
Really it is quite personal ! ’ # 

‘ I cannot say, “ never appealed to me,” but nothing more 
than politeness required, and I like friendliness in those I 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


167 


associate with : if I cannot have that, I would rather have 
nothing.’ 

‘ Now, ‘Anastasia, take my advice. Clara is going to 
spend the day, it seems, alone with Mrs. Barrington. You 
may he sure Mrs. Barrington has not the least idea of the 
efforts to which your life is devoted ; if she had, and is as 
you believe charitable why should you be passed over? 
“ Birds of a feather flock together ! ” I would have you 
drive with Clara to the Grange, and make a call on your 
own account, and ask Mrs. Barrington to visit your school ; 
speak out and show what you are made of, and then abide 
by the consequences.’ 

‘ I think I might do that. Mrs. Barrington could not but 
feel it an attention that I should ask her to inspect my school ! ’ 

And Laura went exulting home. ‘ 0 mamma ! if I have 
not persuaded Anastasia North into the veriest trap that ever 
eyes set foot in ! I only wish I could see her caught ! But 
really, I have done a good deed under a bad one, for if she 
does not get a righting from that little empress of a woman , 
I don’t know who on earth can cure her ; even I shall give 
her up then, and I am sure half the doses I have given her 
would have been health to a dozen ill of the same complaint. 
I do believe self has no eyes, for she never sees the hook.’ 

Mrs. Barrington received Anastasia and Clara in another 
apartment from that in which, they had spent the evening, 
a room still retaining its whitewashed walls. 

‘ I came this morning,’ Anastasia began, ‘ I having had 
so little opportunity of personal intercourse with you, and 
I longed to feel more sociable ! ’ 


168 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


Mrs. Barrington looked slightly surprised- 
‘ Also there were several subjects I have been wishing to 
talk to you upon.’ 

Mrs. Barrington responded very courteously. 

‘ I have been making what little effort I could, for some 
time past, in the way of schools and cottage- visiting. It 
would give me great pleasure to introduce you to my school, 
and to know your opinion of the children’s proficiency.’ 

‘ I am afraid I should disappoint you in my estimation — ’ 
‘ Surely you approve of education for all classes ? ’ asked 
Anastasia, interrupting the sentence addressed to her in reply. 

‘Yes, of education ; but I can only call that education 
which aims at fitting the child for the station appointed for 
it by God.’ 

‘ But you would not think the child unfitted for its 
station because its ignorant mind is instructed ? ’ 

‘ Let us understand each other. Education and instruc- 
tion are terms used very vaguely, and if we use them so, 
we shall never meet at the same point : will you tell me what 
you aim at in your school ? ’ 

‘ Certainly ; it is on a well-approved system, and its aim 
is religious, moral, and mental instruction.’ 

‘ What does its religious instruction consist in ? ’ 
‘Biblical knowledge, of course ! You would find the 
children very ready in Scripture proofs, parallel passages, 
chapter and verse, dates, &c.’ 

‘ And" may I ask in what its moral instruction consists ? ’ 
‘ Explanations of Scripture, religious books ; of course 
the whole influence is moral ! ’ 


THE MINISTKY OP LIFE. 


169 


* And its mental instruction ? ’ 

* 0, there we just aim to do what we can in the short 
period we can keep them. History, geography, arithmetic, 
grammar, writing, spelling, a little astronomy to enlarge their 
minds, a slight idea of chemistry ; in fact, we do crowd in all 
we can, and yet it is all cut short, mournfully soon, by their 
necessity of service.’ 

‘ But is not that necessity of service the will of God for 
them ? ’ 

* Yes, of course we know it is ; but we must make the best 
we can of the time before it comes.’ 

‘ My dear Miss North, if instead of these hurried 
expressions and estimates you will reflect for a moment, you 
surely will see that you have a mistake hidden somewhere ! 
Let me suggest to you, that if you will analyse these several 
lines of instruction you will find that, with very minor 
exceptions, they all resolve themselves into exercises of 
mind ! Your labour is bestowed in stimulating, to the highest 
point that is possible, the minds of those destined, not to 
mental, but to manual toil. Be assured Life is not designed 
by its great Author to be a patch of mind here, and a patch 
of body there, but a blended whole ; and when our instruction 
aims at rising above this level, we err, perhaps more dan- 
gerously than when it falls below it.’ 

‘ But I think you must be aware how many a first-rate 
mind has risen from the peasant class ? ’ 

‘ Yes, and will still rise ; mind will find its natural level. 
It is not mind that you raise in those whose faculties you 
8 


170 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


stimulate to the utmost ; it is rather, I fear, mere acquire 
ment, self-sufficiency, and a mistaken independence.’ 

‘ Would you then leave them uninstructed ? ’ 

‘ No, I would educate all, of every class : that is, I would 
ahn to impart that, and that only, which may best qualify 
them for their social and relative duties. All stimulating 
strain of mind I would avoid in those whom God has appointed 
to manual, not mental occupation. If God has given a mind 
capable of rising, such quiet aid will be quite sufficient to 
develope mental power if it exist ; and such minds -will rise, 
not in shoals, self-sufficient from mere acquirement, but here 
and there in native power and true humility. Where I 
found such 'a mind I would aid its advance by every means 
in my power.’ 

‘ But why not aim to raise all to a higher position ? ’ 

‘ I fear your aim errs from the mark. It is not by filling 
the mind with ideas alien from its calling in life that you can 
raise the individual, but by ennobling the spirit that goes 
forth to its work and to its labour. This ennobling of spirit 
you will never attain, in any general degree, by crowding 
mental demands upon it, but by the simplest, the most peace- 
ful, and most patient education of it for its temporal position 
and its present and eternal happiness. But if you look upon 
a life of service as a mere necessity^ you will impart the 
same tone of feeling, which I cannot hesitate to say is a false 
one. If you would raise the mass, you must look upon their 
life of service as a heavenly calling, to be ennobled by the 
spirit, the faithfulness, and the skill, with which its every 
requirement is discharged.’ » 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


171 


Anastasia, finding the subject did not take as she had 
expected, was anxious to glide out of it, and remarked, ‘ W e 
had one boy of the kind to whom you refer, most promising, 
and capable in every way; his father bound him to a shoe- 
maker, but he is still aspiring ! ’ 

‘ Has any opening been provided for testing his powers ? 

‘ 0 yes ; I have spoken for him to the proprietor of the 
estate on which his father resides, and he has kindly promised 
to embrace the first opportunity for promoting his wishes.’ 

Anastasia thought this a good point at which to take 
leave, with a little show of triumph in this case of Jonas 
Ling. She took her leave, and turned away to think pre- 
cisely the same, and to follow the same line of practice, as 
before. 

Mrs. Barrington, who always kept her spirit free by 
“ speaking the truth in love ” whenever the occasion required 
it, and by never speaking unlovely truth of the absent when 
no occasion rendered it necessary, turned with undisturbed 
benignity to Clara, and said, ‘ Now, my love, will you take 
off your bonnet and shawl, and we will go in to luncheon.’ 




1T2 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE 


CHAPTER XI. 

Mrs. Barrington was one of those whose ministry of 
love takes the highest line, — thoughtful always for the hearts 
that crossed her path, not only for their several sorrows, suf- 
ferings, or wants. Never could she see the young needing 
timely aid without the attempt to meet the want, and leave 
the heart and mind enriched. ‘ 0, think,’ she would some- 
times say to others, ‘ what it is, by friendly influence or ex- 
tended sympathy, to enlarge and enrich one human soul, and 
so to expand and brighten the whole circle of its life-long 
energies I ’ It was this feeling which had led Mrs. Barring- 
ton to invite Clara to spend a day in companionship with 
herself alone. She had observed the absent look on Clara’s 
countenance: it was not an expression that indicated 
natural indifference, neither was it expressive of any con- 
centration in self ; it seemed the reflection of a mind that 
had never learned to blend itself with other minds, and to 
associate its thoughts and feelings with all that might be 
passing in its own circle. 

On the day of Clara’s visit Mrs Barrington conversed 
with her on her favourite pursuits, and took such evident 
interest in the conversation that Clara was led to be much 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


173 


more communicative than usual. At length Mrs. Barring- 
ton remarked, — 

‘ Then as yet, I think, you have devoted yourself to one 
only of the three great departments of knowledge, — the 
knowledge to be learned from books ? ’ 

Clara replied by a silent look of inquiry, as to what other 
sources she could have drawn from. Mrs. Barrington re- 
sponded to the look. 

‘ There is the world of Nature, and the world of Human 
Life. We must not pass over these living pages to lose 
ourselves in the inanimate alone.’ 

‘ I am very fond of botany,’ rejoined Clara. 

Mrs. Barrington smiled. 

^ Ah, well, botany is one of the wonderful secrets of Na- 
ture which she whispers to all, and unfolds to the patient in- 
quirer ; but her secrets are so large, and our finite apprehen- 
sion so small in its beginnings, that we are in danger of losing 
ourselves in some one of her depths, and forgetting that she 
has a universe to unfold, with an endless variety of facts, each 
as absorbing in its interest as the science of botany. You 
will never gain the enlargement and delight of a general ac- 
quaintance with Nature, if you go to her with human guide- 
books only. You must open your heart to receive her in her 
own communings with you alone. Books will help you in 
knowledge of facts, but you will never hold the world of Na- 
ture in your head. It must be, as the wise man tells us, in 
our “ heart ; ” and to possess it there your acquaintance must 
be a personal one. So, you see, a bright increase of know!* 


174 


THE MINISTKY OP LIFE. 


edge awaits you still in the universe of Nature, — and, per^ 
haps, not less in the world of Human Life ? ’ 

Mrs. Barrington looked up as she said these words, with 
a tenderness of inquiry that Clara felt and longed to reply 
to, but knew not how. So completely had she been incar- 
cerated in her circle of books, that she had never habitually 
realised that there was a world of human life, with its wants, 
its efforts, its claims, gathered around her. She had never 
been taught in her childhood the fact, that in God’s provi- 
dential dispensation of time the wants of some must be un- 
satisfied if we do not each one rise to supply them ; the efforts 
of some must fall to the ground if our friendly hand lend 
not its aid, — the claims of fellow-creatures lie unmet if we 
pass them over unseen or unfelt. No one had taken her by 
the hand when her earliest sympathies were unburdened and 
free, and led her on in life’s ministry of love. Therefore, 
Clara had to consider for a minute before she could define 
in her own mind what Mrs. Barrington meant by knowledge 
of the world of human life; and even after consideration 
her apprehension was not very clear. 

The afternoon quietly passed in conversation ; and as the 
cool of evening approached, Mrs. Barrington asked Clara if 
she were disposed for a walk. To this Clara gladly assented. 
They wandered down from the old moated Grange, where 
the sunbeams were shedding golden lustre on pine-woods, 
sloping lawns, and masonry of old red brick. Clara had a 
new feeling in her heart as she walked by Mrs. Barrington’s 
side, who gently leaned upon her arm ; she felt, for the first 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


175 


time in life, the chosen object of a higher nature than her 
own : the very fact of being chosen, and the effortless pleasure 
this elder friend seemed able to find in her companionship, 
had an elevating influence, and drew out a responsive power 
in her of which before she was unconscious. The first de- 
caying leaves of autumn were floating slowly to the ground, 
— Nature’s testimony to inspiration’s record, “the flower 
fadeth ; ” but the summer foliage still hung in its rich, heavy 
masses high above, the rose still bloomed upon the cottage 
walls, and the ripened fruit waited for the gatherer’s hand. 

As they walked together, Mrs. Barrington said to Clara, — 

‘ I want to inspect the progress of some cottages I am re- 
building. The cottages on General North’s estate always 
seem to me inscribed with the inspired inquiry, “ Have we 
not all one Father ? ” The comfort of each little homestead 
seems to have been as much thought of by your parents as 
the perfection of their own residence. Mine, alas ! present 
a sad contrast. My dear father was for many years too in- 
firm to visit this distant little estate : I had not seen it since 
my childhood. I am very anxious to rear some good cot- 
tages before winter, but building is a new essay to me. I 
want you to give me some hints.’ 

But Clara had no ideas on the subject, and they walked 
on somewhat silently. Mrs. Barrington’s was a living, ex- 
pressive silence, never oppressing like a weight, which some 
attempt must be made to lighten, but rather winning its com- 
panion spirit to a kindred tone, or alluring to expression of its 
deepest feelings ; — a silence which a sense of sacredness in- 


176 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


vests ; a silence not to be interrupted by trifling imperti’ 
nences, but always inviting the utterance bf thoughts and 
feelings, — some of which, perhaps, never found expression be- 
fore, and open to any sensible inquiry or appeal. 

Mrs. Barrington stopped at one of the most ruinous cot- 
tages on the Boger-de-Lee estate. Some workmen were 
rearing a new one a little further back on the higher ridge 
of the cottage garden-ground, where the moisture from the 
springs would settle less, and the greater part of the little 
plot of land would lie in front of the dwelling. 

‘ If you have no experience in cottages,’ Mrs. Barrington 
said to Clara, ‘ I will not tire you with standing about on 
the uneven ground. Will you sit down in the cottage until 
I come back ? ’ 

The poor woman accompanied Mrs. Barrington, who 
wished to discover from her tenants any little preference or 
wish they might have in the arrangement of the cottage. A 
rosy little girl was at play on the cottage floor, bare-footed, 
and dressed in a ragged, round, blue pinafore. A fat baby 
was lying asleep in the cradle. Clara sat in perfect silence, 
and the little girl sat equally motionless on the floor, gazing 
on Clara. This suspension of animated life might have con- 
tinued until Mrs. Barrington’s return, had not the large 
baby in the cradle begun to cry. Clara was sorry, but had 
no conception what course to adopt, and therefore turned her 
head another way, and looked out of the window. At length 
the little girl, of some four years of age, from her seat on the 
floor said, by way of advice, — 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


17 ’ 


* Charley wants a rocking ! ’ 

Still Clara did not appear convinced that she was the 
person to rock. 

* Charley wants a rocking I ’ screamed out the little girl 
on the floor, in a tone imperative of attention. 

Clara felt rather alarmed at what might follow next. 
She looked at the children, but remained still a fixture. 
Then the little child on the floor laid herself down on her 
side, and began with one hand to try and pull down the 
cradle-rocker to produce a slight motion. This final appeal 
was irresistible. Clara rose up, and rocked the cradle with 
extreme care ; but still the baby cried. 

‘ Charley want to get up ! ’ the elder baby pronounced at 
last; and Clara weighed in her mind whether she could 
venture to act on this further admonition. The baby looked 
of walking size, and Clara decided that she would venture to 
put him on his feet. 

When she stooped to lift the baby he stretched out his 
little arms ; Clara lifted him out of his cradle bed, as if he 
had been a curious piece of human mechanism that a wrong 
touch might disorganise. The baby, when landed on the 
floor, turned round and looked with great solemnity on his 
liberator ; then, safe on his little rosy feet, toddled up to his 
sister and sat down by her. Clara now watched the children 
with a living interest, and engaged her thoughts, in planning 
a scheme for purchasing, making, and bringing them some 
new little garments ; the first time that such purposes had 
suggested themselves to her mind. 

8 '^ 


178 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Clara had still some apprehension from fear of what the 
mother might think when she found the baby dislodged from 
the cradle. The poor woman soon returned, leaving Mrs 
Barrington with the builders. She looked first at the chil- 
dren, and then gratefully at Clara, saying, — 

‘ I am afraid, miss, the children have troubled you I ’ 

‘ 0 no, I was only afraid of doing wrong in taking the 
baby up when he cried ! ’ 

‘ I am sure ’twas a great condescension in a young lady 
like you to be after him, poor rogue ! I thought he would 
have slept on a bit, or I would never have left you that 
trouble. I am ashamed a lady should look on them wrapped 
up in such rags, but since the Rector sold his horses away, 
my husband has often been weeks without work. Poor old 
gentleman ! he never did like to spend away much, and now 
he has grown so childish, he clings to it the more mayhap, 
because he knows he can’t have it long 1 ’ 

No reply suggested itself to Clara. The poor woman 
probably thought a prolonged silence not courteous to her vis- 
itor, and she presently took up the thread of discourse her- 
self again. * We have a rare blessed lady come now; I am 
sure she is building us up such a place as will show any day 
by the side of the General’s own cottages ; and she will take 
a poor body’s fancy as to where the oven lies handiest to 
come at, and such-like things, as if one were building a place 
for one’s self. She turned in here the very day after she 
came to the Grange. I was sitting fretting, for I thought 
we were all coming to beggary ; my husband had not had a 


/ « 


V 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 179 

stroke of work for weeks, and we had spent away the money 
on bread, and I expecting the steward to be after the quar- 
ter’s rent. It’s often too much for me now when I think it 
all over again. I am sure if I didn’t look twice to see 
whether she were not one of those blessed angels, for she 
lightened one’s road as if she had come right from above.’ 

Clara now began to feel a longing to clothe the mother 
as well as the children, and guesses rather than calculations 
passed through her mind as to whether her personal finances 
would cover the expenditure, for very vague were her ideas 
as to cost of material ; little could she guess, with no expe- 
rience to guide her, for how small a sum the ragged poor may 
be clothed, beneath the blessing of Him who makes wisdom 
available no less in the garmenting a child than in the ‘ sav- 
ing a city.’ Clara’s compassion was chiefly called forth by 
the bare feet of the children, and when the poor woman’s 
words of blessing on Mrs. Barrington died away, Clara 
achieved an observation, — 

‘ Your children must catch bad colds without shoes ! ’ 

‘ 0 no. Miss ; I should never fret for them till they came 
to hard work. ’Tis a deal safer to run about always with 
none, than those sloppering bits of old leather that only soak 
up the wet and keep it all in, when but for them their pretty 
feet might be dry — ^bless ’em ! I love the sight of ’em, pat- 
tering about as pure as Heaven made ’em ; if I had three 
times the coppers to look to, I would never hide ’em up ; 
’tis a decent bit of something to dress the poor dears up in I 
have a longing for. But I always say I will look first to 


180 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


their feeding, even if I have to cover ’em up in an old bit of 
sack, for flesh and blood can’t be bought when the money 
comes in, but a tight up garment may ; and so, thank Grod, 
they have had bread day by day. But it’s nearly two years 
now since I have bought a new rag for any one of us j only 
now I seem to see a cheering, to save us from beggary. 
Madam Barrington says we shall not perish for want of a 
hand’s turn of work. My husband’s been on some weeks 
now at the Grange.’ 

‘ I should like to try and make some clothing for that 
poor woman’s children,’ Clara said, after leaving the cottage, 
to Mrs. Barrington. 

^ I shall be most grateful to you, my dear, for such kind- 
ness, and I am sure the poor woman will.’ 

And Clara almost wondered at the fresh spring of interest 
and pleasure that had arisen, and was rising still, in her heart. 

They crossed the little rushing river, and Mrs. Barrington 
said to Clara, ‘ I want to look after the progress of another 
dwelling ; and if you will let me leave you on my way in a 
cottage close by, you might cheer a poor bed-ridden man by 
a visit, while I attend to my house building.’ 

‘ I am afraid I could not attempt that.’ 

‘ You need not be afraid of attempting, my love, because 
to attempt is to succeed. You have only to take a chair by 
the bed, speak a kind word, and, if he be disposed to listen, 
read a little to one who is ignorant of “ the first principles 
of the oracles of God.” You do not feel unwilling to show 
this kindness in passing to the poor sufferer, do you ? ’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


181 


* No, not unwilling ; but I never have visited the poor.’ 

‘ If you are not unwilling, I will answer for the power,’ 
replied Mrs. Barrington ; and taking Clara into the cottage, 
she introduced her, and then putting into her hand the little 
Bible from her own bag, left her there alone with the weary 
man. He looked on Clara, rather in vague curiosity than 
interest. Clara had no idea of what to say, but she thought 
of Bill Briggen : she knew well where to find the words in 
the Bible that had lighted the “ tempesting seas ” to the 
fisherman ; she knew, for they were the first words of inspi- 
ration on which her eyes had ever rested with interest and 
prayer ; and silently now, as she looked on the sufferer before 
her, she prayed in her heart, ‘ 0 God, let this poor man see 
thy love ! ’ and then, having offered to read, she opened the 
book, found the place, and began. 

Clara read with deep feeling, for the emotion first called 
forth by that passage of Scripture still vibrated within her 
soul ; she read with deep feeling, for the thought trembled 
within her, ‘ What if this poor man should see the Saviour, 
like Bill Briggen, and be happy ? ’ and the concentration of 
a first effort held all else in suspense. 

The bed-ridden man looked up and listened. The storm 
at sea ; the Divine Saviour’s eye on the little ship in its 
tossings, and, when the danger was greatest. His form on the 
waters ; the terror because they thought him a spirit ; the 
joy when they heard the voice they loved dearer than all, 
saying, “ Be of good cheer, it is I ; be not afraid ! ” and they 
safe, on calm waters with Him. No wonder the sick man’s 


182 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


attention was riveted ; and when Clara had ended he said; 

* It was splendid ! ’ for he had been a gardener by trade, and 

* splendid ’ was his highest word of praise for his flowers. 
Clara was encouraged, and ventured to tell of Bill Briggen ; 
then the sick man’s eyes swam with tears, and he looked up 
with a silent supplication to Heaven that had no knowledge 
how to breathe itself in words. 

Mrs. Barrington returned. She put no question, but 
gave her hand to the poor man with a kind farewell ; he, 
holding her hand, looked up in her face, and said, ‘ It was 
splendid ! ’ 

‘ I am sure it was,’ said Mrs. Barrington ; ‘ I think Miss 
North will come and see you again.’ The poor man directed 
his eyes to Clara, who promised to do so, and they departed. 

Anastasia and Laura soon met again at the pic-nic. 
Anastasia was on the watch to avoid Laura if possible, but 
this could by no possibility be done; the most public oppor- 
tunity was chosen, and Laura began, — ^ 

‘ 0 Anastasia, that visit you paid to the Grange — ^my 
curiosity has been insatiable. Bid you come to close quar- 
ters with Mrs. Barrington ? ’ 

Now Anastasia was by no means the brightest of the 
seniors that day, the shadow over her pathway perceptibly 
lengthened. Could she but have seen from whence that ^ 
giant shadow fell, beneath which life’s brightness grew dim, 
she might have found a way of escape from its presence; but 
in consequence of sitting at its feet, expecting every one to 
think of her, she too often found herself alone with the 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


183 


shadow. Could she hut have forgotten herself, and gone 
forth in every feeling to meet others, she would have left the 
giant shadow behind her ; but on that pic-nic day it hung 
heavily, and she tried to evade Laura’s familiar inquiry. 

‘ Now do not attempt to disguise the fact, my dear Anas- 
tasia; I know Mrs. Barrington was in an ecstasy at your 
charities, only probably she avoids flattery, as I should.’ 

* She certainly kept clear of that,’ replied Anastasia. ‘ I 
give every one leave to enjoy her as they like ; I have had 
enough of attempts to be sociable.’ 

‘ You don’t say so ! Well, I confess I am not altogether 
surprised, for Mrs. Barrington looked to me very capable of 
effecting a decided snuff-out. I only wish I had been by to 
come to the rescue.’ 

‘ 0, I am very much obliged to you, but I am quite 
capable of standing my own ground. I certainly expected 
more interest in my efforts and plans, but I undertook them 
for their own sake, and I am only where I was before.’ 

^ Did Mrs. Barrington decline your invitation to inspect 
your school ? ’ 

‘ 0, more than that ! she threw cold water on the whole 
thing I She evidently adheres to some old-fashioned notions 
on education, which I suppose will live on in the background 
of society for a time.’ 

‘ No doubt : all of a piece with the whitewashed walls of 
the Grange ! It is possible Mrs. Barrington suspected you 
of papering and painting the peasants’ intellect, and pre- 
ferring the primitive whitewash herself, she could not be 


184 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


expected to sympathise : but did you not prevail on her to 
make at least one visit with you to the school, that she 
might see what its machinery was ? Then you might have 
triumphed in a convert ! ’ 

‘ No, indeed, I have enough to do in planting new ideas 
in the ignorant, without spending time on the attempt to 
root out notions from minds that, with every aid to the con- 
trary, have yet held them through life.’ 

‘ But did you try at no meeting-point except education ? 
I am sure you gave in too soon ! Do let me suggest to you 
a happier topic : I can discern a point on which you could 
not fail to coalesce in a moment.’ 

^ Really, Laura, the stuff you talk is insufferable ! I only 
hope Mrs. Barrington may “ snuff out ” your folly some day, 
for I have no patience with it ! ’ 

‘ Now, Anastasia, don’t resent my solicitude I As for 
myself, I lie open to censure on every side ; and now that 
you have stood firm, I shall not flinch ; and to tell the truth, 
I am so inexpressibly weary of all the small shot of hints, 
gentle remonstrances, and friendly suggestions, that a good 
broadside, or even a moderate cannon-ball, would make a 
refreshing variety ; particularly if fired off by the hand of 
decision, which secures the not leaving you existing as a mu- 
tilated fragment of your former self. When it comes, I 
hope it will be strong enough to snuff me out altogether ! 
But now, do pronounce on which our starting-point shall be 
through this labyrinth of wood, for I see all our juniors look 
ready : we all elect you as our guide I ’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


185 


Anastasia took the lead, and the merry troop followed, 
their light forms and bright garments lighting up the forest’s 
dense shade ; until Anastasia, still keeping the lead, found 
her feet suddenly swamped in a muddy morass. Laura 
rushed to the rescue, insisting on her not turning back, and 
protesting that it was ‘ only a hint as to Nature’s preference 
for brown above black ; a moment more and Nature herself 
would have brown-booted us all ! Who could expect her to 
tolerate, without a reproof, the intrusion of black feet in her 
sacred domains. A little more running and the brown com- 
position would take form and substance, and no inconvenience 
be felt ! ’ So exhorted, Anastasia, with careful holding up 
of her long flowing dress, proceeded with praiseworthy good- 
humour, falling back now a little in the rear of the rest, 
Laura offering to act as her deputy — and take the risk of a 
total submersion in the next bog they came to. 

‘ What lessons Nature teaches ! ’ exclaimed Laura, as 
she seated herself on a gate-post far down in the wood, while 
most of her companions were seated around^resting in the 
shade. 

Antonia convinced that a personal application of the 
affair of the bog was about to follow, responded, — 

‘ Wait until your oracular wisdom is called for, most 
practical philosopher ; you are not yet elected to the chair as 
the only compendium of morality amongst us ! I move that 
each voice should imitate the note of some bird, to see what 
compensation we can make for the absence of all the melody 
that greeted us in the spring. You second me, and begin.’ 


186 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ Exquisite Antonia, a quietus from you is a rare com 
pliment ! Only allow me to say my intentions were inno- 
cent. If moral philosophy does not suit the occasion, I have 
also prepared a short discourse upon colour.’ 

But Antonia responded, ‘A truce to discourses of all 
kinds, except they he given in the language of birds ! ’ 

Here Captain North broke in on the conference with the 
blackbird’s clear, carolling whistle; Anastasia, whose voice 
had more power than any, was prevailed on to try the night- 
ingale’s song; Clara caught up some notes of the thrush, 
Uttle Leonore gave the yellowhammer’s short plaintive 
strain, while Antonia made the ring-doves low coo, and 
Laura persisted on coming in at intervals with the notes of 
the magpie ; the rest of the party did their part in various 
degrees of perfection, and the failures and fun of the enter- 
*tainment suited well with the demands of the case. But the 
low level of the sunbeams pointed out a return, and the even- 
ing shadows fell darkly before the merry wanderers escaped 
from the wood. 

Not long after the pic-nic excursion, Mr. and Mrs. Astell 
and their daughter were invited to a party at the Hall. 
Mrs. Barrington was one of the guests, to Laura’s entire 
satisfaction. The genuine warmth of Mrs. Barrington’s 
heart, combined with her decision of character, and the 
beaming play of her intellect, completed the fascination 
which Laura had felt in her presence from the first, and 
through the whole evening Laura forgot her old sport in free- 
ly rendered admiration. After that evening she was restless 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


187 


until she had prevailed on her mother to invite Mrs. Bar- 
rington to a select party at their house. Mrs. Barrington 
declined the invitation ; and the spoilt child determined at 
once to give up caring for the being who had crossed her 
will and denied her wish. 


188 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTER XH. 

In the autumn of this year Miss Keymer heard of a situ- 
ation, which she felt held out a promising opening to her for 
the future. She had before yielded to Mrs. North’s generous 
desire that she should remain with Leonore ; but she now 
again expressed her feeling, and urged it as personally desir- 
able to herself. This plea could not be refused ; and Mrs. 
North gave her consent that Miss Keymer should offer her- 
self as governess for an only child, whose parents were most 
anxious that Miss Keymer should undertake the charge. 
Mrs. North gave consent, but she did so with a look expres- 
sive of such heart-reluctance, that the faithful instructress 
of her children felt as if that look would for ever sweeten 
and endear to her the bitter parting from that home after so 
long a residence. Much was felt and said on the subject of 
Miss Keymer’s departure ; but those of her pupils who felt 
it the most were the two who had been least rigidly schooled, 
Leonore and Antonia. 

A cloud now settled on Miss Keymer’s countenance, 
and a weight lay at her heart : it was evident that to come 
and go was no business question to Miss Keymer. One day, 
as the time drew near for her departure, she asked Antonia 
to take a walk with her, and they set out together. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


189 


* Which way shall we turn ? ’ asked Antonia. 

‘ Let us go to the glade where I first went with you to 
copy the beech-tree,’ Miss Keymer replied. 

They walked silently some little way; then Antonia 
said, — 

^ I am so sorry you are going. Miss Keymer. I shall 
always miss you: so many pleasant hours and pleasant 
thiogs are for life associated with you.’ 

Miss Keymer did not reply, and when Antonia looked 
she saw that her tears were falling fast. They reached the 
distant glade, and sat down on the turf in their old familiar 
place, in full sight of the tree. Then Miss Keymer ob- 
served, — 

‘ How unchanged all looks ! — and yet we, whose life must 
be eternal, how changed we are, since we sat here to draw 
that tree ! ’ 

Antonia did not at once reply. She waited, pondering 
thoughtfully, for she could not realise the fact of being her- 
self much changed. Her thoughts and feelings had held 
the same ascending track ; her life had flowed on in the same 
unselfish love ; her acquirements had blended so naturally 
with herself, that she had not marked her own progress. 
She had still her deep sadness — of sorrows remembered and 
felt ; she had, too, her trials, the same as before. Anasta- 
sia had not learned how to estimate aright, nor how to spare 
under a mistaken estimation. None of these things were 
changed, nor had her early brightness grown dim ; it drew 
its light from “ the Father of lights ; ” Antonia was fervent- 


190 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ly happy, and for a moment she wondered what Miss Key* 
mer meant by change. But accustomed very quickly to pass 
from her own feelings into those of others, she soon caught 
what she fancied Miss Keymer’s feeling must be. Miss 
Keymer had seen the nursery merged in the schoolroom, the 
schoolroom lost in the home, and her work was done ; she 
had seen childhood flow on into youth, youth expand into 
womanhood : older life needed her not. No wonder that she 
felt, ‘ how changed ! ’ Antonia’s lips were parted to give 
expression to her sense of the feeling, when Miss Keymer, 
who did not look up, and therefore did not see her prepared 
to reply, spoke again, — 

^ It is not changes I so much feel, I know they must 
come to me. Eighteen years makes this seem like the home 
of a lifetime, but, of course, I have always lived expecting 
to go ; but, 0 Antonia, I tell you the deep feeling of my 
heart when I say that I do not know how to lose sight of 
you, and that, perhaps, for ever ! ’ 

Antonia was taken by surprise ; she could only press her 
hand on Miss Keymer’s, she could not give words; and 
Miss Keymer went on, — 

‘ I would not speak in flattery, — ^you know I am no flat- 
terer, and least of all when I must soon take my farewell ; 
but while I could have your presence I seemed to have some- 
thing of Heaven always near. Now, when I lose you I can 
only look wjp, and all is indefinite, unreal to me there? 

^ But, said Antonia, ‘ you need not begin with looking up.’ 

‘ What do you mean ? ’ asked Miss Keymer, as she 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


191 


raised her face in surprise at so unexpected a reply; for 
evermore in her heart she had silently thought on Antonia’s 
look to the sky, and her breathing forth the word ‘ Heaven I ’ 
Antonia was then only a child, — it surely must have been 
with her the heginning / Therefore she asked with surprise, 
‘ What do you mean ? ’ 

‘ 0, have you not,’ answered Antonia, ‘ sometimes sat by 
the side of a calm sheet of water, and felt it a relief to look 
from the dazzling light of the summer sky down into its still 
depth, where the heavens lay softly mirrored, and the foliage 
around reflected its shadow from the heat ? Such a glass is 
the Bible : all there lies undazzled in truest reflection, but 
softened and still, so that we may look long and intently 
down into its depths, until we have learned to know what 
the Heaven of Heavens is to us ; and then, when we look up, 
we find our eye of faith is strengthened to penetrate the 
dazzling light, and see the things unseen before, and eternal I ’ 

‘ Was it so, Antonia, that you learned ? ’ 

‘ Yes, indeed, it was. I looked often and long in the 
Bible on things written there, most wonderful and blessed ; 
and then, when I looked up^ I found I had a higher sight, — 
a sight that could behold the things of Heaven.’ 

‘ But would it be always so ? ’ 

‘ O, yes ! because it is written, “ The entrance of Thy 
word giveth light.” ’ 

‘ I fear it could not come to me as it came to you ; my 
eyes are weary and dim with the cares and the tears of earth.’ 

‘ Then, indeed, it is just waiting for you, because it is 
‘ the weary ” whom Christ bids to come.’ 


192 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ But you were not weary, Antonia ? ’ 

‘ No, I found it in childhood ; hut, oh, it must be worth 
while to be weary for the sake of all that is said to the weary 
alone ! ’ 

‘ But my eyes have been filled with other objects for a 
lifetime, and I fear it would- be very long before they could 
get rid of earthly things enough to look on Heaven.’ 

‘ We must not measure iime when we act for eternity. 
If it took all that remains to us here, still it would be but as 
one day to a thousand years — a little moment to an everlast- 
ing for ever. But you will not have to lose sight of the 
things of earth ; you will see them more clearly than before, 
only you will see them in a light shining above and beyond 
them, — the light of Heaven ; the light of Eternity, instead 
of the fading light of Time.’ 

‘ 0 Antonia, I cannot feel that my eyes will ever see in 
that light I ’ 

‘ You cannot realise it until you have it, because it is 
not of us, it is the gift of God; but it is His own word, — 
the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the 
eyes.” If we will believe His own word, and seek it there 
until we find it, we cannot “ seek in vain.” ’ 

‘ How you must love the Bible, if it has given this light 
to you ! * 

‘ Yes, indeed, I do ; but not for its light alone.’ 

* For what more ? ’ 

‘ 0, for its love ! — ^because it loves me more than I can 
ever love it. As soon as we get to be one with it, then it 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


193 


meets every feeling ; shows that it understands every secret 
thought ; cares for our every difficulty, sorrow, or want ; has 
some certain direction — some balm — some promise, according 
to our need. And then, above all things, it is always bring- 
ing home to one’s heart the forgiveness of sins. 0, you will 
find it loves you as nothing else on earth can ! You will 
never feel left alone, — ^never uncomforted, unmet, while you 
have that to speak to you ; you will find it has provided for 
every step of your way, until it sees you safe in at Heaven’s 
gate. Will you not love it ? ’ 

* I will look into it as I never have yet, — long, intently, 
and with prayer. If I find it loves me^ then, dear Antonia, 
I must for ever bless you.’ 

* 0, you will bless God ! The faint ray shining through 
me will be lost in the sense of His love.’ 

When the day of parting came. Miss Keymer’s self-com- 
mand did not give way, until, last of all, she took leave of 
Antonia. The General and Mrs. North were both present. 
The time when the orphan Antonia made her first trial in 
the schoolroom, rose freshly before them. This parting 
scene, as a sequel to all that went before, was a lesson for 
hearts thoughtful as theirs : it witnessed of things unseen 
and eternal, — of an influence whose source was above — of 
a love whose ascendancy was supreme. Antonia pressed a 
little parcel silently into Miss Keymer’s hand, who, without 
venturing to look back upon the friends and associations of 
years, stepped into the carriage, and was gone. When she 
opened her packet, she found in it a Bible. It was beauti- 
9 


194 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ful as a book ; and how beautiful now, as it seemed to her 
the secret of the loyeliness investing Antonia, — the hope of 
changeless blessing for herself ! She pressed it to her lips, 
and took it as a sacred gift from above. 

The autumn passed away, and the winter’s frost set in , 
but no snow-flake, no cold wintry rain, could penetrate the 
warmly-built cottages — pictures of the English peasant’s 
home — scattered among the flelds where the villagers labour- 
ed on the Koger-de-Lee estate. The open door revealed the 
cottage life within to the passer-by with freedom’s fearless- 
ness, conveying to the eye a sense of home life that, perhaps, 
no other land can impart. Built up of stone from the hills, 
with a single lining of bricks to keep them from damp, 
latticed windows that opened with a casement, thatched 
roof, and a porch at the door, — such were the warm, shelter- 
ing nests of the poor, on which, when the winter winds blew 
round the old moated G-range, Mrs. Barrington’s thoughts 
turned with comfort, as the homes of those whom the Maker 
of all men had intrusted to her care. 

Clara did not lose her lately-awakened interest. When 
a feeling was once fairly planted within her heart, she did 
not readily relinquish it ; the difficulty was to plant it there, 
because the whole surface of her life was crowded and pressed 
with other things. The delight of the poor woman in her 
replenished wardrobe, and the seeing her little family in 
decent apparel, — this we need not depict ; the feelings of the 
giver and receiver can be well imagined. It became a 
pleasure to Clara to call at that cottage, — to sit within it 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


195 


and watch all with interest, and listen to all that the poor 
woman or the children would say to her. Nor was the bed- 
ridden sufferer ever forgotten by her. On her second visit 
to him, he seemed to have lost the impression of the narra- 
tive she had before read to him. When Clara alluded to 
it, he only remarked, ‘ I never knowed anything of seafar- 
ing ways, and now it is very certain I never shall.’ The 
Divine love of the history had faded from his still darkened 
heart, and the scene was not one his mind could familiarly 
retain. Clara for a moment thought all was over ; she felt 
as if she had nothing except Bill Briggen to fall back upon, 
and that was at an end. But when we are treading the path- 
way of love, in hope to guide the wandering steps of another, 
or ease the rough way to weary feet, there is One who will 
meet us, and give us in that hour what we shall say and what 
we shall speak. Clara felt too much at a loss to look up 
for guidance; but He, who is always at hand in the path- 
way of mercy, looked down upon her, and met the occasion 
with the thought that was wanted. Clara had made her- 
self acquainted with the Bible, and it now occurred to her, 
in her despair, to read from the Gospel of St. Luke of the 
fruit-tree bearing no fruit, that was to be tended with all 
the gardener’s care for one year more, and all to be well 
if it bore fruit, but if still it bore none it must then be 
cut down. This came home to the heart of the gardener^ as 
a fact quite familiar. Clara thought he would want it ex- 
plained, and did not exactly know how to attempt it ; but 
the poor man looked up with solemn feeling, and said, — 


196 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ That’s cutting to hear 1 God have mercy on me ! 
which showed the Word had been a light as it fell. 

And so from that day Clara chose out scenes of Nature 
from the page of inspiration, and the one link of knowledge 
by which the poor man could realise them opened his mind 
to retain what he heard ; until his heart, softened by the 
dew of God’s blessing, began to receive it abidingly. He 
listened until he loved, he loved until he knew what he loved, 
and was filled with joy and peace in believing ; for “ the 
record God has given,” is such, that “ the wayfaring man 
though a fool shall not err therein.” 

Anastasia had more than once wondered what Laura 
could have meant when she said, at the pic-nic, that she had 
discerned a point on which herself and Mrs. Barrington 
could not fail to coalesce ! The sense which broke upon her 
at the moment, that Laura was making sport, had faded 
away in the more permanent feeling of curiosity. It was, 
at all events, as well to know what Laura did mean, if she 
had been only in sport it would confirm the impression of the 
moment ; but Laura certainly was clever, and with nothing 
to occupy her, except the making observations on others ; 
she might have discovered some point in common, and it 
would certainly be more agreeable to feel some decided con- 
geniality of mind with Mrs. Barrington ; so, at all events, 
Anastasia would sift out what Laura meant. When a con- 
venient opportunity of private conference offered she repeat- 
ed her former expression of feeling, she must say, as re- 
garded Mrs. Barrington, she had had enough of attempts to 
be sociable. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 197 

Laura caught the clue in a moment. 

‘ I think you are premature ; there might be points, and 
no doubt there are, on which you and Mrs. Barrington might 
assimilate at once, proving a mutual profit and pleasure.’ 

‘ I cannot tell what your acuteness may have discover- 
ed, Laura, I certainly have not found any meeting point yet.* 

‘ My dear Anastasia, I freely ofiered you the benefit of 
my discoveries at the pic-nic, and you rejected my aid with 
resentment ! ’ 

‘ No, not resentment ; but what is it that you think you 
have discovered ? ’ 

^ Think ! it is no deduction of thought, but matter-of- 
fact observation ! ’ 

‘ Bwt what is it, Laura ? ’ 

‘ Why, is it not self-evident that you and Mrs. Barring- 
ton are both of one mind in leading others usefully on ? 
Exactly what you aim at, and have all along aimed at, with 
the daughters of your Rector, Mrs. Barrington achieved for 
Clara ; look at Clara’s new interest in life and judge ! Try 
Mrs. Barrington on that point, and you must find one at- 
tempt sufficient ! ’ 

Anastasia was always naturally gratified when any step 
she had already taken proved the ascent to influence with 
others. In the blindness of self-approval she believed suc- 
cess was before her, and determined to follow up Laura’s hint. 
And Laura’s triumph rose high. 

It was some time before any opening appeared. In the 
course of a few weeks, however, Mrs. Barrington called when 


198 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Anastasia only was at home. Now Anastasia had not failed 
to observe, that the other members of her family seemed 
able to venture anything with Mrs. Barrington, in fact, this 
recent resident had become more intimate in her home than 
any other friend in the circle around them ; and she began to 
attribute her own failure to a want of more assurance and 
independence on her part, — an unhappy, but not an uncom- 
mon mistake ; the truth being that she had far too much self- 
assurance, carrying her on without any careful study of the 
feelings and judgment of others. Under this delusion, An- 
astasia received 'Mrs. Barrington’s morning visit. There 
would have been a grace in waiting to see whether Mrs. Bar- 
rington was disposed to lead the conversation, but Anastasia 
was generally too much occupied with her own pjans and 
ideas for this. She quickly introduced a subject which she 
concluded must be a suitable one to begin with ; addressing 
some close inquiries to Mrs. Barrington with reference to the 
aged incumbent of ‘ the Alps.’ Mrs. Barrington had taken 
from the first a great interest in the old Rector, expressed by 
every kind and respectful attention. Anastasia knew this, 
and supposed that her personal inquiries must be acceptable, 
as an evidence of like interest. But the feeling of Mrs. 
Barrington’s deep and tender spirit was one widely apart from 
Anastasia’s investigating inquiries ; the dross of self in poor 
Anastasia tarnished all the fine gold of native refinement of 
mind, and mingled its alloy with all she might otherwise 
have received pure from Heaven ; she had, therefore, no con- 
ception of that delicacy of inquiry without which minds of 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


19S 


elevated touo cannot admit either close personal or relative 
inquiry. Mii Barrington spoke respectfully and with evi- 
dent feeling of the aged Rector, but avoided personal detail 
turning aside ail pointed interrogation. Nothing silenced, 
Anastasia pursued her subject. 

‘ I must confess, Mrs. Barrington, I am at a loss to under- 
stand why you bestow so much time and kind consideration 
on that childish old man, while yet you keep aloof from the 
Rector of this parish, who is really, and so is his family, most 
kind-hearted and open to influence ! I have longed to inter- 
est you on their behalf, I should really hope for great benefit 
from a little intercourse with you, if you were willing to cul- 
tivate their society ? ’ 

Mrs. Barrington replied, — 

‘I do not wonder that such distiftctions should some- 
times raise a question in your mind, but when you have had 
more experience in life you will perhaps discover that there 
are some individuals whom we may best influence, or rather 
perhaps best avoid deceiving, by keeping apart from their 
society.’ 

^ I do not see it,’ Anastasia said, ‘ to be so in this case, 
at all events : the whole family are so amiable ! they seem 
only to want a little leading on, to make them really actively 
useful ; but, unfortunately, Papa is so downright, that I sel- 
dom like to press their coming, for he is not one to lead 
people on ! ’ 

‘ I fear it is not “ leading on,” but turning straight back, 
that some people want ; and if so, the more downright the 
dealing with them the better.’ 


200 


THE MINISTKY OP LIFE. 


‘ Yes, but even then so much depends on the way things 
are done, and in kindly cultivating their society, an influence 
may be exercised from which much might be hoped.’ 

‘ I am sorry to discourage your kind feeling, but the self- 
sufficient are quite beyond my poor attempts. A higher 
Hand must humble, I believe, before we can make any well- 
directed attempt to lead them on ; they must learn their first 
lesson from Him who directs us to walk humbly with our God.’ 

‘ I really do not see that this end will be better accom- 
plished by our standing aloof.’ 

* No, I see we do not view the subject in the same light, 
and I do not know how to make my meaning plain to you, 
except by saying, that in cultivating the society of the self- 
satisfied, unless we are in a position to put the truth plainly 
before them, and to ^ffix to it a personal appeal, our friendly 
intercourse with them would, it might be feared, help to 
build up their self-deception. None are so insensible to all 
indirect influence as the self-satisfied.’ 

At this point Anastasia felt some personal excuse neces- 
sary, and responded, ‘ I, of course, am not in a position to 
speak openly, I am always received with kindness at the 
Rectory ; I cultivate the acquaintance in hope of conciliating, 
and the consequence is, I am aided in following out my own 
plans for the poor.” 

‘ I can quite suppose you would feel a great difficulty in 
any direct appeal against the awful fact of preaching those 
truths to others, of which the preacher’s life denies the per- 
sonal power ; but you must remember that if you allow your 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE 


201 


intercourse to exceed what courtesy demands, you then place 
yourself voluntarily under the sacred obligations of friend- 
ship ; to cultivate a friendship, and yet refrain from being 
faithful, is a fearful position to occupy.’ 

‘ I really cannot see it in the light in which you place it.’ 
Tenderly then Mrs. Barrington looked on Anastasia, and, 
in a tone of earnest solicitude, said to her, * May it not he 
possible that you are hindered from seeing the subject in this 
light, because you have already viewed it in another, and know 
not how to relinquish your own view. May it be possible that 
self is your hinderance also ? ’ 

It was a startling inquiry. The depth and almost trem- 
bling earnestness of feeling in which it was asked would, to 
some hearts, have softened it all into tenderness ; but truth 
is strong, and not finding an entrance, it shook Anastasia’s 
whole spirit ; it was not allowed to penetrate ; it was rejected 
in a tone of wounded pride and almost resentment. Mrs. 
Barrington, with the same gentle firmness, responded, ‘ I 
found it so deceitful a foe that I often despaired of escape 
from its tyranny ; but there is One who searches the heart, 
and He can enlighten our spirit to act as His candle, bring- 
ing to our view our every real motive and feeling. Let me 
entreat you to ask Him that He would do so for you ! ’ 

But Anastasia could not be won. Mrs. Barrington, see- 
ing it was hopeless, turned the conversation and soon took 
her leave. 

Anastasia shed tears of vexation and annoyance ; count- 
less were the troubled questions that passed through her 
9 * 


202 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


mind, but comparatively faint and few were the supplications 
that she offered to Heaven for the secret evil to be discovered 
and overcome ; the work could only be a great one, and she 
was not willing to consent to “ the violent taking by force ” 
which a long-seated usurper requires. Had she but in reality 
possessed the spirit of a little child,” which in word she 
professed, how different might all her after-life have become ; 
but self in her would not humble its pride, and therefore its 
shadow grew larger and darker above her. The earnest ap- 
peal had been made to her, the faithful warning had been 
given, that ‘ open rebuke which is better than secret love ’ 
had not been withheld, but she saw not its rare costliness, she 
felt not its value. She had turned from the searching of 
truth, and the personal appeal was never again sent home to 
her heart. 


IHE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


203 


CHAPTEE Xm. 

Mrs. Barrington, with her usual consideration for all 
that could add to the pleasure or comfort of those around 
her, had suggested that the aged Rector of ‘ the Alps ’ should 
be drawn up to the Grange in his chair, that he might sit in 
the cool shade of the lofty pines, and feel the refreshment of 
a daily change of scene. The variety had pleased him, and 
he always looked for it at the usual hour. He never seemed 
weary of his seat on the lawn ; he often appeared to be gaz- 
ing around on the distant landscape, though probably his dim 
eyes could scarcely define the beautiful expanse; or he 
watched the gentle life around him — the gardener watering 
the opening flowers, the butterfly and bee sipping the honey- 
dew, and the majestic tread of the St. Bernard dog who 
sometimes paced slowly by, but who never noticed the aged 
guest. The soft murmur of the breeze through the forest 
boughs, or the sweep of the summer wind as it rose with a 
rushing swell, the mighty music of the woods, seemed all 
alike to him. What he saw, what he heard, no one knew ; he 
sat motionless and helpless, a living being lingering in a 
world on which he once might have breathed an enduring 
blessing, on which he now appeared to gaze in vacancy: it 
was a mournful sight. It was not the weary labourer, rest- 


204 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE 


ing his active spirit after the burden and heat of the day, be- 
fore it rose on wings, as an eagle, to enter into the joy of its 
Lord. — Alas ! no charity could hope that it was that. The 
aged pastor had never known what it was to ‘ break up the 
fallow ground, to sow in righteousness, and reap in mercy.’ 
Nor was it the gentle existence of one whom reason never 
blest, the infant life prolonged through threescore years and 
ten, waiting its summons to lay down the soul’s dark prisOn- 
house, to ascend a disembodied, emancipated spirit, to behold 
and rejoice in the Divine love that had provided for its irre- 
sponsible being a cloudless, blissful eternity ; — it was not this. 
What it was, each one who looked on him was left to infer. 
Day after day, in the course of those long quiet hours, Mrs. 
Barrington would bring her little camp-stool to his side, and 
opening her Bible, read to him from the sacred page, pausing 
sometimes, and sometimes reading over again the words that 
are “ spirit and life,” if, peradventure, now at even-tide it 
might be light. He would turn and look at her, and some- 
times, as she read, the tears rolled down his furrowed cheeks. 
Did they only flow from the weakness of age, or might they 
be the tears of repentance ? There was no voice, nor any 
to answer ; the silver cord was loosened, the power of utter- 
ance gone. When Mrs. Barrington left his side he followed 
her parting steps with a troubled look ; but this passing ex- 
pression of feeling soon faded again into vacancy. When the 
damp mists of autumn rendered this daily change unsafe, the 
aged E-ector quickly sank away, the golden bowl was broken, 
the spirit returned to God who gave it. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


205 


From the time when the beloved Alpine cure thus became 
vacant, Captain North’s anxious heart pleaded with Heaven 
in its behalf. A few weeks passed quietly over the forsaken 
Rectory, the new-made grave, and then a note from Mrs. 
Barrington requested a visit from Captain North on impor- 
tant business. He entertained no question as to what the 
subject might be — it must, it could be but one — the new ap- 
pointment to the Alpine church. He walked to the old 
moated Grange, deeply pondering. Hill and valley all lay 
smiling in the last parting glory of autumn; the woods 
almost leafless, but a warm light over all, breathing its radi- 
ance over Nature’s decay, as if sealing it up in love before 
the chill blasts of winter set in for their day, until spring 
again should bring warmth and life. He looked on the 
land in its loveliness, and felt how unconscious it all lay 
around, unmindful whether the feet of its coming pastor 
might indeed prove the feet — ^how beautiful upon its moun- 
tains ! — of one bringing good tidings, publishing peace, bring- 
ing good tidings of good, publishing salvation. He lifted 
his eyes from that landscape to Heaven ; no prayer could he 
utter in that anxious hour, but the look was supplication. 
Little could the outward eye have discovered the weight of 
thought borne by that buoyant step, as the soldier ascended 
the hill and entered the old moated Grange. 

Mrs. Barrington received him in her private sitting-room, 
her countenance expressing the feeling that reigns under a 
sense of the highest responsibility. 

‘ You, doubtless, have guessed the subject upon which I 


206 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


desire to consult you this morning. I have during these 
past weeks been most anxiously weighing the question as to 
whether I could fix upon any individual to whom I could 
with fullest confidence offer the spiritual charge of this long- 
neglected parish. I have arrived at the conclusion, that 1 
know not one (free to accept it) to whom I could unhesitat- 
ingly make the offer ; my first inquiry now must be made of 
you. I feel persuaded, from the intimate acquaintance of 
past months, that I might trust your faithfulness in the respon- 
sible act of selecting a pastor for this parish ; therefore before 
I inquire of any other, I wish to ask. Do you know the man 
whom you could desire, for the work’s sake, to see appointed 
to this place ? ’ 

Firmly and thankfully the soldier answered, ‘I do.’ 

It was a beautiful thing at that moment to see how the 
expression of Mrs. Barrington’s countenance, which had been 
surcharged with deep anxiety, lighted as the answer was given. 
Well she knew what it was to be able to repose trust in an- 
other ; hers was no hasty confidence of friendship’s kindly 
feeling, but the deep assurance resulting from knowledge of 
the character of the one in whose judgment she confided. 
The fact of the transferred presentation was signed from the 
moment of that trustworthy ‘I do.’ But some houjrs passed 
away in conference on the subject before the shadow of the 
soldier fell on the hill-side again. 

At length his steps were turning home ; he longed to tell 
there the hope that filled his heart, and yet he lingered ; he 
looked on valley, and cottage, and hill, and the silent, unut- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


207 


terable language of that look told the tidings of blessing 
The village lay smiling in its beauty and its brightness as 
before, as unconscious now of the hope as before of the fear. 
The soldier climbed to a little cleft in the hills ; it was a 
long familiar spot, it had been the haunt of his childhood. 
At each call of the service to which his youth was devoted 
he had taken his last look of the * Alpine * village from that 
point ; there, since his return, he had often sat on a rude 
ledge of stone in meditative thought — such thought as surely 
one day will be found to have been prayer. And now he 
turned aside to this sanctuary of nature, where the village 
lay below at his feet, and the church in its peaceful repose 
stood beside the Rectory on a neighbouring hill. He ascend- 
ed and stood there, with an earnest of the feeling of the long- 
expected herald who shall get him up into the high mountain 
— it may be, Mizpah’s highest point — and lifting up his voice, 
tell to Judah the tidings of good 1 The soldier lifted no voice, 
but he looked in silent love upon the scene, where Hope at 
length had lighted down, folding her weary wing in the re- 
pose of assurance. Then taking his rude seat of stone, he 
drew forth the little worn Prayer-book that had been, togeth- 
er with his Bible, the pocket-companions of his youth of ser- 
vice, and, opening its pages, read the Gospel and Epistle for 
St. John the Baptist’s day, as breathing best the feeling of 
the moment. And as he read the words that told of facts 
and feelings, the same to-day as in that yesterday of long-ago, 
when first the prophet uttered them, his spirit rose on the 
full tide of inspiration’s thrilling song until every feeling 


208 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


blended in the sense of expectation’s joy. Nor was the in 
spired address to the holy Baptist, “ And thou, child,” un* 
meet on this occasion, for the one to whom the pastoral 
charge was to be offered was still in his youth. Then de- 
scending the steep face of the hill, the soldier hastened home 
with the tidings of joy. 

Captain North had felt no hesitation in returning for 
answer the declaration, ‘I do.’ He had watched with great 
interest the course of a younger brother of one of his own 
military friends. A year or two younger than himself, he 
had felt for him an elder brother’s generous tenderness as a 
boy ; he had watched him with increasing interest through 
his college career, contending successfully for the University’s 
highest honours ; had seen him then turn from the field of 
intellectual competition and victory “ to preach the Gospel 
to the poor, to heal the broken-hearted, preaching the accept- 
able year of the Lord.” Captain North had once hoped that 
this young friend, Edward Seymour, would some day occupy 
their own family living, but that hope had now long passed 
away ; never had his expectation rested on the Alpine cure ; 
but a day, an hour, almost a moment, had laid the lowly vil- 
lage in the youthful pastor’s path. Would he feel called of 
God to receive the charge, or would he pass it by, leaving it 
to some other heart to accept the sacred trust ? The Cap- 
tain felt no doubt on this question, and the reply gave the 
seal to his hopes. It was a call from Heaven, and the un- 
pestioning response was, * I come.’ 

It was not long before Edward Seymour paid a few days 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


209 


visit to his friend Captain North, that he might look upon 
his already accepted parish, and be introduced to the patron- 
ess. On the morning following his arrival, after spending 
an hour alone with his friend, they set out together to visit 
the Alpine village. They made their way direct to the 
church. Captain North called as they passed for the massive 
key of the door, he unlocked the portal, the heavy old door, 
that had been thrown back to receive generation after gen . 
eration, opened once again on a pastor whose step had never 
crossed its threshold before ; and with the thrill of a hallowed, 
trembling awe, the soldier of war and the minister of peace 
entered the earthly courts of the King eternal, immortal, 
invisible ; the one as presenting, the other as accepting, the 
charge of those courts for a lifetime. It was a moment of 
unutterable feeling to both. In one, the reaction from hope, 
long deferred, now suddenly unfolding in promise beyond all 
that, for this parish, had been asked or thought; in the 
other the overwhelming solemnity of the first early accept- 
ance of the sole charge of immortal souls, to “feed the 
Church of God, which He hath purchased with His own 
blood.” They lingered on in the stillness of the sacred fane, 
while thought crowded upon thought, and feeling pressed on 
feeling. What had been there ? Alas ! the form without 
the Spirit. What now was there ? A pastor’s vacant place, 
his sands of life run out, his great account made up and giv- 
en in. What would be there ? this was the question now. 
The youthful scholar knew that classic honours were no surer 
aid to his most high and holy ministry, than were the riches 


210 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE, 


of the throne of David to the son he left to judge the twelve 
tribes of Israel. He could but kneel in the almost more than 
earthly stillness of the village church’s aisles, and, as the 
young King at Gibeon, ask and say, “ 0 Lord, my God, I 
am but a little child, I know not how to go out or to come 
in, and Thy servant is in the midst of Thy people, give there- 
fore Thy servant an understanding heart ! ” Then as silently 
he mused in thought and feeling almost overwhelming, the 
words of Zechariah iii. flowed like the river of the water of 
life, through his soul, calming all his fevered pulses. He, in 
a happier sense than the prophet of Moab, “ heard the words 
of God, and saw the vision of the Almighty.” The high- 
priest standing before the Angel of the covenant, clothed in 
filthy garments, and Satan at his right hand to resist him ; 
the high-priest’s attitude of silent expectant waiting; the 
only voice the voice of Jesus, rebuking the adversary for His 
servant’s sake, claiming him as His, by choice and by redemp- 
tion ; the taking from him all iniquity, the clothing him with 
change of raiment, the adorning him with the gifts necessary 
for his high ministry ; the charge delivered to him, the prom- 
ise given ; the only means by which that charge could be 
fulfilled, even by the Lord his Redeemer being set always 
before him, and the final result, an influence of heavenly love 
uniting all around ! It was enough ; his early faith had cast 
anchor in the Divine Word, it had staid him through all the 
rough waves, all the deceitful calms of childhood and youth, 
it had held him unwavering when he knelt to take his minis- 
terial vows, it upheld him now in this hour of first entrance 


THE MINISTRY OE LIFE. 


211 


into that village where his testimony was to be “ a savour of 
life unto life, or of death unto death,” to the souls whom he 
voluntarily received as his charge. And now, with a brow 
calm and unclouded he passed from the old porch, along the 
churchyard path, between the graves of the departed. Once 
he stopped for a moment, as near the chancel end of the 
church a newly-made grave met his eye; no mound was 
raised above it, it seemed waiting a monumental stone. Ed- 
ward Seymour asked, but asked as though he knew untold, 
‘ Whose grave is that ? ’ 

‘ The late Rector’s ! ’ replied his friend. 

^ 0 North ! when I, too, lie sleeping there, when to me 
the night is come wherein no man can work, what will my 
record be on high ? ’ But the shudder of feeling passed 
again in a moment ; it could not retain its hold on a spirit 
panoplied in the whole armour of Grod. Then, turning from 
the churchyard, they wound their way through the valley’s 
depths, crossed the river, and climbed the hill to the old 
moated Grrange. The villagers looked out from their cot- 
tage-doors, and the labourers turned to gaze after them as 
they passed, for they thought that “ mayhap it might be the 
new parson.” In truth, any stranger or friend might have 
looked in interest on the two. The soldier, with his light 
firm tread, as regular as music’s measure ; his figure all ner- 
vous energy and pliant ease, ready, it seemed, at the next 
step, to climb the facing of the rock, or mount the scaling- 
ladder for assault ; the pastor’s less elastic, more meditative 
pace, — ^not braced in muscle, or in form, to the spring of 


212 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


swift effective motion, but his brow resolved and calm, look- 
ing as if he walked the earth — ^not at the first signal to rush 
on and bear down the foe before him, but in the might of 
Heaven to pause as human beings drew around, and raise his 
hands and bless. Such were the two as they passed on, and 
entered the old ivy-mantled Grange. They spent a consid- 
erable time in earnest conversation with Mrs. Barrington, 
and returned at length to the Hall, not without some exhaus- 
tion after the day’s excitement. They were glad of an hour’s 
solitude and repose before the family assembled for dinner. 

Edward Seymour found himself seated by Miss North, a 
fact which rendered silence on the subject of deepest interest 
an absolute impossibility. The strain had been great that 
day, and to have led his mind into a somewhat different 
channel, would certainly have been a relief ; but Miss North 
always seemed persuaded that interest, sympathy, and help, 
were best rendered by closely canvassing facts and feelings 
in every case that might be pressing ; very naturally, be- 
cause it was her own preference in similar circumstances, 
and she therefore only judged another’s preference by her 
own. She was led into the mistake by never attempting to 
discover the feeling of others, but applying her own remedy 
to every individual. The consequence was, that confidence 
continually ebbed from her side, but though she sometimes 
felt the effect, she had no idea of the cause ; it was one of 
the offshoots from “ the root of bitterness ” which she made 
no permanent effort to cast out from her heart. Edward 
Seymour had maintained all day his own high sense of the 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


213 


Divine Call, the Ministry, and the Blessing before him ; he 
had not questioned, he had not doubted, and his very fear 
had been absorbed in his soul-sustaining affiance in his God 
— ^but for this he had hardly been upheld through the in- 
tense feeling of the day. He had joined the evening circle 
too weary for longer actual weighing of the subject: but 
satisfied and calmly assured, reposing on Heaven. When, 
therefore, his wearied spirit’s rest was invaded by Anastasia’s 
“ common-places ” of religious expression, and he was laid 
under the necessity of response to all that suggested itself 
to her mind as most bearing on the subject, he vainly ad- 
dressed himself to the task ; the shallowness, the quick suc- 
cession, and the bareness of her remarks and suggestions, 
bore down his spirit to earth, diverted its upward glance, 
and led it back to the arena of contesting feelings ; its light 
was obscured, and its power of repose paralysed, until he 
gradually lapsed into a gloomy and unresponsive silence. 
Other guests were staying at the house, which, increasing 
the number at the dinner-table, had rendered general con- 
versation a hopeless attempt ; so Anastasia was left free to 
lay down her views, and Edward Seymour compelled to en- 
dure them. When Anastasia left the dining-room, she look- 
ed back on the hour spent there with much satisfaction ; she 
had kept the conversation on profitable points, and she hoped 
that good might be the result. But Anastasia forgot that 
it is the “ word spoken in due season ” that alone is good.” 
She had yet to learn what it was to have her ear “ wakened 
morning by morning,” to a quick perception of the heart’s 


214 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


beating pulses around her, before she would be one of those 
who “ know how to speak a word in season to him that is 
weary. ” 

In the course of the evening General North asked his 
son how matters had gone off at the Grange ? 

‘ 0, well enough in the end ; but I chafed myself into a 
fever, and all to no purpose, because Seymour did not, I 
thought, show off to advantage, but sat on as much at his 
ease as in his own study, and never rose up to the point of 
acknowledgment which I expected and thought due, only 
saying something about his sense of the confidence reposed 
in his friend; but after all my anxiety, before we left, you 
might have supposed the Patroness and Rector felt the mu- 
tual confidence of years.’ 

‘ That’s well, then,’ replied the General, ‘ and you may 
rest assured that when you have done your part in bringing 
distances near, you must leave the collision to itself; that 
must take its natural course, and abide the issue.’ 

As the evening wore on Edward Seymour still found it 
impossible to rally ; his spirit had been dragged down, and 
its weariness kept it in the dust ; he saw only images of a 
pastor’s new-made grave, of a people untaught, of death-beds 
unlighted by hope, until, benumbed in feeling, one of two 
alternatives became necessary, either to turn away to a sol- 
itude of exhaustion and doubt, or to breathe out to another 
the burden within. His eye glanced over the room in in- 
quiry, and rested on Antonia’s face bright in repose ; he had 
talked with her at breakfast that morning, and felt inclined 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


215 


to turn to her in hope of a congenial spirit ; he soon made 
his way to her side. 

‘ You know this Alpine parish well, I suppose? ’ 

‘ No, not well ; my cousin Harry knows it best.’ 

‘ Ah ! I don’t want him to-night, he takes cities by as- 
sault, and could only pity the weakness that trembles at the 
pastoral care of a village.’ 

‘ No, he would not merely pity ! he knows too well the in- 
finite difference between things temporal and things eternal.’ 

‘ It is “ INFINITE ! ” ’ replied Edward Seymour, and he sat 
refiectingly silent, as though the admission of the burden had 
given an instant degree of power to contemplate it. At length 
he said again, ‘ I am ready to wonder how I ever ventured on 
ordination vows, making all drawing-back impossible, they 
hang about me now with a weight almost insupportable ! ’ 
Antonia turned her deep eyes of sympathy on the speaker, 
and replied earnestly, ‘ Could you not find relief by standing 
a moment in thought on Gennesareth’s shore ? ’ She paused, 
as hesitating to add more, expecting her meaning to be under- 
stood, but Edward Seymour still only listened, so she went on, 
‘ The voice that there spoke the first, highest call to the Minis- 
try, in only those two blessed words, “ Follow Me ! ” ’ 

It was enough ; for her words called freshly to view that 
holiest and loveliest of Nature’s peaceful scenes, the shores 
of the blue Lake of Galilee; the fishermen Peter and 
Andrew, James and John, mending their nets, the Divine 
Son of Man passing by, choosing them for His messengers of 
mercy, and including every personal requirement in the one 


216 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

blessed charge “ Follow Me I ” The scene of nature, divert- 
ing the mental eye, gave relief to the mind ; the simplicity of 
the Divine charge restored repose to the spirit. It was the 
Divine Word that had raised and invigorated ; Antonia’s wis- 
dom consisted in waking that heavenly harmony. She had 
an instant reward, she saw that the load was lightened in that 
glance to the Chief Shepherd, that echo of His call, “ Follow 
Me!” 

Edward Seymour joined the seniors of the party, his 
changed aspect was not unobserved, but none knew that it 
had been wrought by a whisper of Heaven, by one look from 
the burdens of earth to the Lord of all power and might. 


THE MINISTRY OP TIPE. 


217 


- • CHAPTER XIY. 

Edward Seymour did not lose the vision of heavenly re- 
pose. He rested that night on the shores of the Lake of 
Tiberias; his thoughts reposed on the natural features of 
the scene, and his spirit in the blessed companionship of 
those simple fishermen and their Divine Master, ‘whose 
gentleness it was that made them great.’ He entered on 
the coming day refreshed and strengthened, equal to the en- 
counter with whatever might present itself ; those who find 
their rest in the Redeemer’s peace-giving presence, find in 
that rest a renewal of strength. 

Captain North had an engagement which he said would 
occupy the greater part of the morning. Anastasia hearing 
this, availed herself of the opportunity to request Mr. Sey- 
mour to visit her school. Mrs. Barrington had promised to 
join them at dinner, which made Anastasia additionally anx- 
ious to traverse the educational field before any opposing 
views might be introduced. It was everything that the 
new Alpine Rector should have a perfectly unprejudiced 
view of her school. She conducted him to it through the 
gardens as being a pleasanter way, and also to give time for 
a few preliminary remarks. 

10 


218 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ I really feel your visit to my school, Mr. Seymour, quite 
a favour and personal encouragement, for I am obliged to 
work on with little or no manifestation of interest from others.’ 

‘ Indeed ! that is not usual ; education is so much the 
fashion of the day.’ 

‘ Yes ; but you see the fact is, my school is in advance 
of the neighbourhood. I have the pioneer’s work ; when 
the way is prepared, others may be glad enough to follow. 
I did, indeed, hope for countenance from Mrs. Barrington, 
but I fear you will have something to contend with there, 
for she entirely objects to this throwing open the gates of 
knowledge to all, — the happy achievement of the present day, 
and my humble, but, as I said before, solitary effort here.’ 

Mr. Seymour only replied, — 

‘ I have yet to learn Mrs. Barrington’s views on the 
subject of education.’ 

‘ Then let me advise you to avoid all collision with her, 
and act from the first independently. You . will have hard 
work enough as it is, for the farmers are all set against edu- 
cation ; afraid, I suppose, of their cow-boys being wiser than 
themselves. I have much to contend with, but I will gladly 
allow any children from the “ Alps ” to continue in my school 
and others to come, as long as it may be agreeable to you. 
I have an admirable mistress.’ 

^ Have you any of your children yet in service in the 
village ? ’ 

‘ No, not in the village ; the farmers, you see, really spite 
the school, and, most unfortunately, they are quick enough 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


219 


to find out that papa looks coldly upon it, which is quite 
enough for tenants any day ; this will make your kind en- 
couragement invaluable, for I really have to row against 
wind and tide ! ’ 

‘ What becomes of your children, then, if they find no 
places here ? ’ 

‘ 0, happily, the poor children learn to aspire, and look 
above the milk-pail and the plough ! If it were not for this, 
I think the whole work must have come to a stop. You 
would scarcely believe it, but all the farm-house servants in 
this parish are taken from other parishes, where there are no 
schools in any way equal to mine ; and the few lads who have 
entered on farm-service are never long with their masters.’ 

‘ Then the results have not been very happy as yet ? ’ 

‘ No, not as regards the farmers^ but they really must 
be left to take their chance : the poor children are my care ; 
all my girls look, more or less, for teachers’ situations in 
schools, or become dress-makers, milliners, or wish for places 
as ladies’ maids, or to wait on children, and so get off to the 
town ; and the boys are capable of shopmen’s places, and 
some even of something higher.’ 

‘ And do you think this “ aspiring,” as mentally or physi- 
cally healthful for them as the rosy milk-maid’s or the hearty 
plough-boy’s place of service ? ’ 

‘ I think it a token of the increase of mental power. 
But here is the school, and I flatter myself you will bestow 
your encouragement upon it.’ 

Before them stood the rows of neatly-dressed children ; 


220 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


for a moment they bowed and curtsied, and then the hum 
of learning commenced again, not more than a moment could 
be spared. 

‘ Mr. Seymour, you will like to test the children’s knowl- 
edge ? Children, form a class ! Children, we will begin with 
things SECULAR. What is the meaning of the word Secular ? ’ 

* Not spiritual.’ 

^ Right ! Mrs. Boniface, let the children go through the 
European capes.’ 

And the little villagers, embosomed in one of England’s 
wooded valleys, a long day’s swift journey from sea, or prom- 
ontory, bay, or headland, went through, by dint of a remark- 
able effort of memory, every cape encircling the world’s Eu- 
ropean quarter. While from each young eye the gentle calm, 
so natural to rural life, was gone, as each looked eager for 
the little neighbour to forget, that his or her place might be 
taken as a trophy of attainment ; and those who had no eager 
anxiety looked stupid in the hopelessness of such unnatural 
recollection. The European capes were ended. Mrs. Boni- 
face paused. Miss North looked at Mr. Seymour. The 
children took the opportunity of exchanging a few hard 
words, because one had been too quick on another, and the 
one at no loss had not given a moment for consideration to 
the one whose memory was not quite so retentive. Mr. Sey- 
mour bowed slightly. Arithmetic followed, then grammar. 
History followed grammar ; and so these village children, born 
to cultivate the land around them like one bright garden, to 
tend the cattle of the field, and in such occupation find a liv- 


THE MINISTKY OP LIFE. 


221 


icg interest ; to look up to the holy Heaven above their hills 
and valleys, and learn from their Creator’s word the path to 
reach that sinless home ; these simple rustics must be drilled 
in learning’s school, have every mental faculty forced, and all 
power and interest concentrated in rival competition; the 
tendency of which was to unfit them for their native calling, 
and to send them with a vagrant intelligence to add their coun- 
terfeit knowledge to the current market of towns and cities ! 

Then, as time was advancing. Miss North whispered a 
hint to Mrs. Boniface, who instantly drew up a whole class 
at full chase on some secular subject, and exclaimed, — 

‘ Children ! Old Testament prophecies.’ 

But at this Mr. Seymour interposed, — 

‘ Not all in a breath, I entreat 1 Let us make some 
distinction.’ 

Miss North did not look pleased at so unexpected a 
remonstrance ; but, by way of meeting it, shouted, — 

‘ Children, sing a hymn ! ’ 

The children sang a hymn with an eye on the auditors to 
see what effect the performance produced. The same order 
as before was issued the moment the hymn was concluded, 
but Mr. Seymour again interposed, — 

‘ May I be allowed to change the subject ? ’ 

‘ Certainly, sir,’ said Mrs. Boniface, ‘ if it be to one they 
know.’ 

‘ Come, my children,’ said Edward Seymour, with his 
accent and look of intensest repose, ‘ you are tired with all 
this long standing ; you can sit down, if you like. I want 


222 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


you not to try any longer one against another, but each one 
think, gently, of some text from the Bible that you love, 
and say it to me. Any one of you may begin.’ 

All silent. 

‘ I want you to tell me some text of the Bible that you 
think of at your work, to make you diligent ; or at your play, 
to make you kind, — some text you think of when you see 
the very old people, or the sick, or the hungry. ... Well, 
then, some text about the flowers, — some text about Heaven ! ’ 
But all was in vain. The children looked to Mrs. 
Boniface, who said, — 

‘ They are not used to exactly that way, you see, sir ; but 
they will give you all the dates of the principal events in 
the Bible, — genealogies, order of the kings, or the types and 
antitypes ; also on certain subjects, such as truth and lying. 
Children,’ continued Mrs. Boniface, ‘ texts on truth.’ 

One or two were rapidly repeated to Mrs. Boniface’s 
approval. Then a thoughtful-looking child began, — 

‘ Prov. vii. 7, “ For my mouth shall speak truth.” ’ 

But Mrs. Boniface interposed with a hasty — 

‘ No ! sit down ! ’ and another started up with a different 
text. Mr. Seymour, however^ suspended the last speaker 
to inquire why the former was silenced. * Wrong reference, 
sir,’ replied Mrs. Boniface, with some little satisfaction in 
her tone at knowing more than the minister. But Mr. 
Seymour did not consider the reason to be a sufficient one, 
and invited the boy to repeat the sacred words, which he 
did with correctness. This exhibition went on for a short 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


223 


time longer; after which Mr. Seymour, in a few words 
addressed to the children, tried to impress upon them the 
difference between “ hiding the Divine Word in their heart,” 
and merely committing it to memory ; with which the long 
visit terminated, and they withdrew. 

Miss North observed, ‘ If you could have seen the 
ignorance of these children when Mrs. Boniface began with 
them, you would be surprised at their attainments ! ’ 

‘ I am surprised at their attainments ; but I fear you 
are mistaken in straining after this amount of mechanical 
proficiency.’ 

‘ Why need you call it mechanical ? ’ 

‘Because it must keep its bare line of acquirement: it 
is a certain response at a certain pointy that the children 
must for the most part have acquired, and there is very little 
of real value, I fear, in that.’ 

‘ I can assure you they are taught on a well-approved 
plan ; but of course every one must be allowed their own 
opinions and preferences.’ 

‘ Do not let us shut out the subject with a general 
conclusion, but rather weigh it together. Take history, for 
instance. Those children give you dates and names correctly, 
which numbers who have read the chief historians of our 
land would fail in recalling, but you must be prepared for 
the entire passing away from their memory of these historical 
points ; if they fade from the minds of those acquainted with 
the details, how much more of necessity where they exist as 
points alone ! And then, what finally remains ? A few 


224 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


glaring facts along the line of history j such as one King of 
England beheading his wives ; another murdering his young 
nephews; Queen Mary burning the Protestants. Even of 
Elizabeth’s reign, the only impression will probably be the 
tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots and Lord Essex. The 
question then is, whether their previous ignorance was not 
nearer the truth than these few glaring facts which they will 
finally retain ? They know nothing of political wisdom, of 
legislative enactments, of a kingdom defended and dignified ; 
battles are to them only a name. If, then, you wish these 
English peasants to rally round England’s throne, would it 
not be more in accordance with general knowledge and 
truth, to leave in their simple hearts the instinctive idea they 
have of the monarch, rather than attach to it the blots and 
stains which, in their necessary ignorance of all general his- 
torical detail, are sure to be the fixed points in their minds ? * 

‘ But arithmetic ? Mr. Seymour, you certainly must 
allow their satisfactory progress in that ? ’ 

‘ 0 yes, it may be of essential service to them ; but I 
certainly would not press figures further. The constant 
obligation to remember where every text is to be found 
before repeating it, is literally the same as ' refusing to take 
a right and well-known road merely because the sign-post 
does not attest it. Think of those little heads in time of 
sickness, on their pillows, when they most want the Water 
of Life, unable to receive it peacefully, from inability to 
remember the chapter and verse, which, from school habit, has 
become essential. W e expect the Divine W ord to have its home 
in the heart, but figures can never go deeper than the head. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


225 


Miss North again turned the subject, and gave Mr. Sey- 
mour a short sketch of her parochial plans, visiting, meat- 
tickets, &c. Mr. Seymour listened silently, but Miss North 
liked an occasional assent and consent ; therefore she^ather 
hastily asked, — 

* You do not repudiate system?’ as it was system on 
which she had been enlarging. 

‘ Well, as to that, I have as little to say to system as it 
has to me. It has its good, no doubt, as well as its evil; 
but I believe its peculiar good for us depends on* its being a 
necessity, not a preference.’ 

‘ I certainly, then, do not agree with you, for there is 
system in all things ; the universe itself is a system.’ 

‘ A system in all things created no doubt there is, open 
to our investigation. And a system there may be in all 
things spiritual, but its circle and its cycle are both too vast 
for our apprehension, its harmony is traceable only by faith. 
I believe we are wiser in always endeavouring to follow the 
guidance ceaselessly promised us, acting in harmony or 
unison with our glimpses of the Divine mind, than in fram- 
ing mimic systems of our own, which, as they cannot include 
all the parts of perfection, are sure to be at fault somewhere, 
if not everywhere.’ 

‘ I really cannot follow your meaning. 

‘ I merely suggested,’ Mr. Seymour rejoined, ‘ that our 
pigmy systems must of necessity be at fault somewhere ; and 
that I, therefore, think it wiser to endeavour to act in constant 
harmony with the Divine relationships and the truths un- 
10 * 


226 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


folded to our apprehension, rather than to constrain ourselves 
and all things into the narrowing circumference of human 
systems. These parochial appliances of which you tell me, 
may he a necessity of circumstances in an overwhelming 
population, and then we may hope they would accomplish 
more than could be done without them. But in districts 
where every household may be known, I should think it a 
higher course to act in harmony with the precepts and ex- 
amples of the Divine Word, as applied individually to every 
case. I would, in such a district, neither visit on a system, 
nor give temporal relief on a system. The great point is, I 
believe, to keep on both sides a power of spontaneous action 
and a flow of life. Otherwise you will have work, but no 
vitality ; and for this you will, perhaps, be at a loss to ac- 
count.’ 

‘ I am sure our clothing-club system has been most use- 
ful to the poor.’ 

‘ No doubt it has, and always would be, because house- 
hold economy, and such mere materialisms of time, can be 
thoroughly comprehended in a system ; and the poor are 
aided by their own regular savings, as effectually as the 
dormouse by its stored-up nuts in the winter : that which is 
instinct in the mere animal, must be regulated by discretion 
in man. But when you come to the want of body or mind 
that meets you in your neighbour to-day, it is a serious loss 
to sacrifice the gush of charity to a customary dole ; or to 
fetter, by set times, the communion of spirit.’ 

But Miss North was not at all persuaded that the plans 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 227 

which she had arranged and carried out were not the most 
desirable, and she therefore saw no necessity for a change. 

On the following day Edward Seymour took his leave, 
not expecting to come into residence for a period of some 
months. The previous evening, spent by Mrs. Barrington 
at the Hall, had strengthened the union of feeling ; and the 
mutual interest of the tie was cemented between them. 

Christmas passed once more over those English villages; 
the last that was to raise no deep responsive feelings from 
hearts awakened by a pastor’s spirit. 

In the month of February the General and Mrs. North 
consented, at their son’s persuasion, to spend six weeks in 
London, accompanied by Antonia and Leonore : Captain 
North was to be of the party. Miss North and Clara were 
to remain at home. Antonia, whose every pore was open to 
drink in the full measure of every interest that met her in 
life’s pathway, enjoyed the six weeks vividly. Leonore al- 
ways lived twice as effectively, in all that was shared with 
Antonia ; the General and Mrs. North found a reward for 
their effort, and the Captain a constant pleasure, in the in- 
terest and enjoyment they witnessed in their two young 
companions. The details of the six weeks presented a rapid 
succession of events too long to be narrated. So we turn 
from the vast city’s torrent tide of human life and action, 
to trace the lowly course of one deep streamlet’s bed — the 
lot of a village lad. 

Jonas Ling had toiled on at the shoemaker’s stall in the 
neighbouring town. Countless times did his pulse beat 


228 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


quicker at the roll of a carriage and a glance at Mr. Belti- 
more’s livery, believing he might then be coming to call him 
to the consummation of the long-delayed opportunity] but 
no, it was not so ! Then Jonas reasoned with himself, ‘ It 
no doubt was beneath such a gentleman to call and ask for a 
shoemaker’s apprentice ! More likely he would send a mes- 
senger to summon him to his presence.’ He glanced at every 
figure entering the shop, but no messenger arrived there for 
him. Or, ‘ perhaps Mr. Beltimore might drop him a line on 
paper.’ 0, sickness of hope deferred ! surely they who in- 
flict it so recklessly must one day themselves be made to 
feel the heart-faintness which it causes, that they may know 
the measure they have meted to others. Jonas Ling’s was 
a sorrowful case, sorrowful as numbers without number ! 
Had Mr. Beltimore not spoken resolvedly. Captain North 
would, in the first instance, have investigated the facts; and 
had Anastasia not so blindly relied on Mr. Beltimore, or idly 
rested on so vague a hope, Mrs. Barrington, who was ever as 
unwilling to pass by native capability, as she was to load a 
powerless mind with acquirement, would have made further 
inquiries about the boy. Words lightly uttered, and there- 
fore easily forgotten, or even a slight vaunt, may blight an- 
other’s prospects for life, by setting aside the aid that might 
effectually have promoted them. How great, then, the need 
to weigh the sincerity and truth of each expression ! 

No ‘ opportunity ’ had yet presented itself to Mr. Belti- 
more announcing in audible tones, ‘ I am Jonas Ling’s oppor- 
tunity ! ’ therefore, of course, Mr. Beltimore waited still. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


229 


The next event was that the lad’s father died. Then the 
hoy went once more to Miss North, who advised him to ap- 
ply to Mr. Beltimore. Mr. Beltimore received him kindly, 
was sorry for his long-exercised hopes, encouraged him, and 
said that after Christmas he was going to London, when he 
would visit a training-school and see what arrangements 
could he made for carrying out the hoy’s earnest desire. 
Merrily now did poor Jonas work at his last; and when his 
master was absent, cheered his toil with a song. In every 
possible interval of liberty he went down to his mother, and 
told her his day-dreams and night-dreams of the school ; and 
the cottage-home he should have for her when she was feeble 
and old. Poor boy! can it be that your heart must be 
deserted of hope — the hope that looks out from your long- 
watching eyes, and rises in that carolling song, and sits with 
you side by side while you cheer your mother in her pov- 
erty-stricken widowhood ? 

Benson, Greneral North’s butler, was a great friend to 
poor Jonas ; he had shown kindness to the boy from the very 
first of his coming from Mr. Beltimore’s estate to the school ; 
he knew how much he disliked his present employment, and 
Benson never went to the town without sparing a moment to 
look in, if possible, on the boy and cheer him with a kind word. 
To him, of course, Jonas imparted the hope which had been 
raised that the desire of his heart might shortly be fulfilled. 
But Benson only said, he hoped, indeed, that Mr. Beltimore 
might /or once find the ‘ opportunity ’ for which J onas had 
been so anxiously waiting, and now was so eagerly expecting. 


230 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE, 


Jonas Ling could not imagine that a gentleman could be dis^ 
appointed of an opportunity. 

Early in March Mr. Beltimore returned, during the Gen* 
eral’s absence in London. Breathlessly now J onas Ling waited 
for a fortnight, afraid at the last to dash his good fortune by 
impatient boldness in asking. Then he met Mr. Beltimore, 
who barely noticed his bow, and giving no reply to his look 
of pressing inquiry, passed on. Tha-t footstep of his, as it 
passed, crushed the heart of the boy ! He said nothing to any 
one ; but a few days afterwards Benson approached Niss North 
and held out an open letter, saying, with a face ashy pale and 
quivering lip, ‘ From the lad Jonas Ling, ma’am ! ’ Anasta- 
sia took the letter and read, — 

‘ Dear Mr. Benson, 

‘ You have always been a friend to me since I had the hon- 
our to sing my first Christmas-piece at the Hall ; indeed, the 
best friend I ever had, except my poor mother ! I write to take 
my grateful and respectful farewell, and most humbly to en- 
treat you to stand a friend to my poor widowed mother. 

‘ Mr. Benson, I am broken-hearted and deceived, and I will 
trust no more ! Before the dawn of the morning I shall be 
off to the first town I can find, where I may ’list for a soldier. 
T stood the tyranny I am bound to so long as I had a whole 
heart, but it’s more than an angel could stand with a broken 
one. My master knows my worth, but considers I am all in 
his power ; indeed, Mr. Benson, it is an innocent revenge I 
take on him in only leaving him the loss. But my mother ! 
if my heart were not broken already, the thought of her would 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


231 


do it the next moment ! I could not face the telling her that 
I am out-and-out cheated, as I know now I am. Mr. Benson, 
why cannot a gentleman say down what he means, and then 
stand by it ? Please to make my humblest duty to the Cap- 
tain, and I shall always think of him ; and I will shoulder my 
musket as brave as he carried a sword I Make my humblest 
duty, and say, it would not all look so hard if I could get a 
sight of him in the fight ; but I know he has done with the 
wars since that night we shouted. Will you, Mr. Benson, still 
stand my biggest friend, and show me the favour to think of 
my mother, and cheer her up, as I have tried to do in my let- 
ter, with the thought of my coming home a brave soldier that’s 
fought for my Queen and my country, with a medal from the 
Queen on my breast ? But if I fall, Mr. Benson, do think of 
my mother, and make intercession for her to the Captain (for 
sure enough I will die fighting bravely), that he would think 
of her in her old age, and not let her be carried off to the 
parish-house for the sake of the poor soldier lad that made 
his dying prayer to him that he would not ! I dare not write 
again until I am clean out of the country, for it would be a 
killing chance to be hauled back again to my brutal master. 
There’s only one thing looks hard, Mr. Benson, next to leav- 
ing my mother, that I always builded my hopes on filling my 
fellow-creatures’ brains with knowledge and wisdom, and now 
I must go about knocking them out ! I will only trouble 
your kindness with one word more, Mr. Benson. Pray never 
trust our Squire’s promises for my poor widowed mother, for 
they are ten thousand times worse than the worst of denials, 


232 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


for they fill out one’s heart like a bladder, and then it goes 
clap in the end, and is broken I So commending my poor 
widowed mother to your care, I remain, Mr. Benson, your 
most grateful servant, ‘ J onas Ling. 

* Midnight^ March 23d’ 

Miss North rang the bell, and Benson stood before her. 

‘ This is a most desperate act of J onas Ling’s I I have no 
doubt Mr. Beltimore still has something in view. You had 
better go yourself and see Mr. Beltimore, and hear from him 
whether he thinks anything can possibly be done, only on no 
account show him J onas Ling’s letter.’ 

Then Benson coloured an indignant crimson. 

‘ I beg your pardon, ma’am ; but if I must lose my place 
by it, I could not bring my mind to ask Mr. Beltimore to 
meddle any more with the boy. I have made up my mind ; 
and, if you please, ma’am, I am off to my master by the 
mail-coach to-night ! ’ 

‘ Off to London, Benson 1 ’ said Anastasia, in her turn as- 
suming a high tone, with less reason than Benson, and not a 
little disquieted and surprised. ‘ I can give you no permis- 
sion to leave the place for a desperate apprentice-boy in my 
father’s absence,’ 

‘ I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I have not served my mas- 
ter these thirty years and more without the knowledge that 
he would consider my arrangements sufficient for all safety 
as can be taken by man. Mr. Howis ’ (Mr. Howis was the 
steward of the home-farm) ‘ will sleep here each night I am 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


233 


away ; he has given me his word, and he is twice the man, if 
it comes to protection, that I am now, whatever I may have 
been in my day ; and Mrs. Chetwind will see that nothing is 
neglected. The dog-cart will take me down in half-an-houi 
from this time to the town, for I must be at the Bank before 
it closes, for I will act a father by the poor lad, and buy him 
off as sure as I have a penny to look to, if he can anywhere 
be found. My master will know about that. I’ll write off 
to my master by the post to-night from the town, and tell him 
what I have taken in hand, and then it will strike no alarm 
when he sees me. The gardener is doing up a few things for 
my mistress as fast as he can, for, if you please, ma’am, 1 
must be off in half-an-hour.’ 

‘ You must take the responsibility, Benson ; I have noth 
ing to do with it.’ 

Benson bowed and retired. Meanwhile Clara had left the 
drawing-room, and now she met Benson in the hall, and put- 
ting a bank-note in his hand, said, with a hurried tone, — 

‘ Here, Benson, I would give you more, but it is all that 
I have. I am sure papa will make it up. Do buy off the 
poor boy ! but will he have to go back to that shoemaker 
again ? ’ 

^ No, miss, as sure as my master is a gentleman, and I 
am a man ! ’ 

Clara satisfied, hurried away, but not back to the drawing- 
room for fear of having to discuss the subject with Anas- 
tasia. 

‘ Mr. Benson, just step in ; here’s a cup of tea all ready ! ’ 


234 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ Not for the world, Mrs. Chetwind, all the same thanks, 
but the Bank may be shut.’ 

‘ Now you shan’t so much as sit down ; but just step in, 
it’s all poured out and sweetened ready ! ’ 

Mr. Benson stepped in, there stood his cup of tea, and 
near it a plate, from which Mrs. Chetwind lifted a cover, 
and on it lay a little heap of silver and gold. 

‘ There, Mr. Benson, there’s not one has held back ! not 
one of my girls nor your lads ! There ! take it just in a 
heap as it is ; I have noted it down. You had better take 
one of the old wrappers, the night will be terribly cold with 
this east wind. I’ll go across this evening and comfort up 
the poor widow with the telling of your being off for the 
boy, for they say she has never shed a tear, nor turned from 
stone-like since she heard it 1 ’ 

Benson reached London, his master, and the Captain, with 
poor Jonas Ling’s letter in his hand. Not a post was lost, 
letters were sent in every direction ; but had the G-eneral, in 
his thoughtfulness, not said, ‘ Describe the poor boy, for it’s 
a chance if he has not given a feigned name,’ all would have 
been in vain. Poor Jonas, in terror at being traced and 
brought back to his master, had concealed his real name ; 
but the description of his person given by Benson, for 
neither the General nor the Captain could have given it, at 
length brought tidings, and Benson was sent off to ransom 
and bring him back to London immediately. 

Benson arrived at the place ; but when the sergeant 
brought in the poor lad, no words could describe the boy’s 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


235 


despair. Falliog down on his knees, he entreated and be- 
sought Benson to return, and not to betray him ; and when 
Benson said it was impossible to return without him, and 
gave his word over and over again that he never should cross 
the threshold of his former master’s house, Jonas said, ‘ 0 
Mr. Benson ! I dare not trust again, because you can’t stand 
against law ; there’s none could do that that I know of ; only 
if the Captain had given his word upon it, then I would 
have trusted, because he knows what a gentleman can do.’ 

Benson promised for the Captain, and declared and in- 
sisted, but all was in vain ; the Captain had not said it, and 
the cheated boy would lean on no other word again. Then 
the sergeant insisted, and told him he would be sent off to 
prison as a runaway apprentice if he did not go in peace with 
the gentleman who was come to buy him off. Then Jonas 
looked defiance in his despair, and said, ‘ You cannot, shall 
not make me go ! I am the Queen’s servant now ! I have 
been bought in with her money, and sent it all to my mother 
by a comrade to post in another town, and I will stand by 
my colours, come what will ! ’ 

Then the sergeant grew violent at the runaway apprentice 
boy claiming any right of service to the Queen ; but Benson 
interposed and said, ‘ Be not angry, sir ; if the poor lad has 
no colours yet, my master and my master’s son are pretty 
near the top of the service ; at least they would have been if 
they could have stood it till now, and they will make you 
amends for any kindness to the lad ; he has been desperately 
cheated, poor boy ! and he has no trust left in him ; but be so 


236 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


good as to use him well, and I will look in again to* 
morrow ! ’ 

Benson had no alternative but to go to an inn and write 
an account to the Captain, begging him to have the charity 
to write a few lines with his own hand to the poor boy. But 
instead of writing. Captain North set off in person by the 
next coach after receiving the letter ; and the evening of that 
day saw poor Jonas Ling quiet, assured, and as happy as such 
a tempest-tossed heart of deep feeling could be, with the 
Captain and Benson at an hotel in the town. On the fol- 
lowing day he went with them to London. All difficulties 
were overcome; and before the Captain returned with his 
family to the Hall he had settled poor Jonas at a training- 
college, to be educated as a schoolmaster. Such being the 
contrast between those who wait for opportunities, and those 
who, when others have lost them as it would seem for evei; 
yet, with a resolved heart of action, redeem them. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


237 


CHAPTEE XY. 

There are those who know what it is to make their earth- 
ly home in the midst of a people beloved and loving ; to win, 
by daily prayer, the dew of Heaven’s blessing for them ; to 
be looked upon by them as a living witness of the truth and 
love of God ; and as the Heaven-sent counsellor to them, 
from whose heart-judgment their simple trust seeks no ap- 
peal. There are those who know what it is to be in the 
midst of their people the chosen repository of the- sorrows and 
the joys of childhood, manhood, and old age ; in sickness to 
be looked for as the messengers of love, in death as the 
angel of blessing. To pray, and wait, and hope until the 
wanderer be restored, the prodigal brought home ; to be at 
hand when the just man falls, the earthly helper to raise him 
up again and watch his steadier progress. To meet “ the 
steps of the poor and the feet of the needy,” bearing, with 
the haste of gladness, their first-fruits ; a blessing from the 
hands of many who knew not that it was an ordinance in 
Israel, proving that God’s appointment was a native impulse 
of the heart’s awakened feeling ; there have been, and there 
are such, and such was Edward Seymour. 

The April violet bloome^l on the banks when the young 


238 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


Rector and his aged attendant Dora, the nurse of his child* 
hood, took up their abode at the Alps. The Rectory was 
in a ruinous condition. Mrs. Barrington offered to receive 
Mr. Seymour at the Grange until the house could be re- 
built, — an offer which was gratefully accepted. 

Before the first Sunday came, Edward Seymour had en- 
tered every dwelling, and looked in love on his people. His 
repose and ease of manner were attractive to alk Constraint 
or effort, which are hindrances under all circumstances to in- 
fiuence and confidence, are peculiarly felt among a rural pop- 
ulation. Accustomed to the deep repose of nature, and to a 
slowness of mental activity in themselves and one another, 
they are oppressed or bewildered by any manner or address 
not perfectly natural. Edward Seymour pleased his people 
well; he entered their cottages, sat in quiet ease among 
them, and they felt at home with him — felt the presence of a 
human heart among them — turning to them in love and con- 
fidence, and in so doing enabling them to turn to it. He 
spoke with a kindness and interest that led them to speak to 
him ; and he deferred making any personally direct appeals 
until a little mutual knowledge and confidence were gained. 
This excited their interest as to “ what his preachment would 
be when it did come ; ” and, as at each dwelling he invited 
all to come both morning and afternoon on the next Sabbath 
day, because he had something to say to them all, which he 
should say nowhere but in the Church, and never say all over 
again, they secretly resolved, with very few exceptions, that 
they certainly would go. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


239 


* And then,’ as an old man said in giving the account 
some time afterwards, ‘ if he didn’t look out in every cottage- 
place for the young things, and said, “ Let the little ones 
come to their Saviour ! they must come for they always 
stand in his eye : so let them come up at half-after nine to 
the Church.” And the poor dears were as pleased as young 
larks, and I warrant you there was none of them left lagging. 
No, no ! I knowed all about it, for I thought to myself, “ I’m 
no better than a babe in my ignorance, and a deal worse in 
my sin ! ” So I laid a hold on my staff and hobbled after 
them, up a’ the hill ; and I turned right in among them, and 
told the parson I just wanted to learn like a babe, and he said 
out to me, “ Come then, and share in their blessing! ” So 
down I sat on the old chancel bench, and down sits he on a 
doss in the midst, and down sit all the young things on the 
chancel-floor round him ; he had had some bran new matting 
laid to keep off the cold chill, but that was just all. And one 
while he puts to them some words from the Bible, and here 
and there a quick chap of a boy catches it up almost at a 
snap, or a girl full as well, but he never ran after them quick 
ones with more, but staid a helping out the small bits of chil- 
dren, till I laid hold on it too. And then he comes out with 
a bit of a Psalm, and he’s at them with that, and when they 
have laid hold on the verse as he say it, then he goes after 
singing it to them, till they sing it up along with him. I am 
sure if the time didn’t seem gone afore it come I and the folks 
were filling up the seats; but afore that, he prayed them all 
to think always of the good Grod of Heaven when they came 


240 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


in at the church door, and to ask Him to bless them, and he 
made them all say His name, “ Saviour ! ” 0, how soft they 

did speak it out ! He coaxed the poor little things till they 
whispered it, too ; but he said never a word to drive any to 
speak it, for he said not one on this earth could speak it 
aright, only them as said it of love ! And when I heard that, 
if I didn’t take heart and say it too, with a tear in my eye, 
for I thought if them young things was bid to cling to it so, 
how much more an old sinner like me I At the least, I said 
every letter on it with love ! I never learnt so much in all 
my born days as that morning prime, on the old chancel 
bench, and all them young things squat on the ground like a 
flock of lambs gathered round ! This is my place, thinks I, 
and I will keep it, and so I has ; and I never takes my seat 
on that old chancel bench but I whispers out from my old 
sinful lips that name, ‘‘ Saviour ! ” ’ 

Mrs. Barrington walked up earlier than usual to the 
church on that day ; it could not fail to be a day which she 
vividly realised as weighed in the balances of eternity. The 
responsibility of the choice was Captain North’s, the respon- 
sibility of the acceptance Edward Seymour’s, but the re- 
sponsibility of the appointment was her own. Slowly and 
alone she ascended the hill, thinking to be the first to enter 
the church, and there to enjoy a short calm before the com- 
mencement of the service. Then the sight met her view of 
the village children all gathered and seated on the floor of the 
chancel, the pastor in the midst bending down to them and 
teaching the little ones to lisp gently the name of their 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


241 


Saviour ; the aged man on the old chancel bench in an atti- 
tude of fixed attention, his hands resting on the head of his 
staff, learning, as a little child, to enter the kingdom of 
Heaven. Mrs. Barrington looked for a moment on the 
scene ; she remembered the words, “ He shall feed His flock 
like a Shepherd, He shall gather the lambs in His arms ; ” 
and turned, with an overpowering feeling, to her pew. » 

Old Dora took the children for a few minutes’ walk before 
the service began, and Edward Seymour entered his vestry 
alone. It was over — that first meeting with the children of 
his pastoral charge. 0, the thrill of that hour when the 
children drew near ! the young hearts not yet hardened, but 
ready for the good seed of the Kingdom, ready to come and 
sit at the feet of the teacher, and listen and love — who could 
meet them unmoved ? 

The Alpine bells were ringing out their first joyous peal 
when the Captain left his home that morning, in response to 
their call. He had no purpose of early entering the church, 
far more free felt the soldier beneath the arch of the sky, the 
blue vault of Heaven. He passed the church, little thinking 
that an infant congregation was already within ; and climbing 
higher on the hill took up a lonely station to contemplate 
in unutterable thankfulness the bright fulfilment of hope, the 
large answer to prayer. It was yet early, and sitting down 
on the heathery turf, he again read from his Prayer-book the 
same appropriate words, that he had read from a neighbour- 
ing elevation on the day when the hope first unfolded before 
him — the Epistle and Gospel for St. John the Baptist. It 
11 


242 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


flowed through his soul like the river of God’s pleasures, and 
brought down Heaven in blessed earnest and foretaste around 
him. He still sat there, the little volume half closed in his 
hand, watching the villagers as they now first appeared in 
sight from the valleys and the glens ascending the hill. 

Then presently the tones broke on his ear of young voices 
almBst beneath him. He rose in surprise and looked down 
on the village children, old Dora in the midst and the bigger 
children around her, all helping or trying to help her to climb 
their hill-side, a labour to which her aged feet were most un- 
accustomed. The Captain joined them, which increased the 
children’s delight, for they all caught from infancy their 
parents’ looks of love on him as he passed. With the Cap- 
tain to strengthen Dora’s motherly authority the young voices 
were hushed, and all walked in quiet order through the church- 
yard and church. 

From that day Captain North became assistant-teacher 
in the Alpine Sunday-school, and to Dora’s great relief al- 
ways took the children himself to the hill-top before the ser- 
vice began. And when they had learned to sing, they would 
stand on the hill’s highest point and lift up their young voices 
in praise ; and the sound floated down on their parents below 
as they slowly ascended the hill to the church, ‘ as if it had 
been the little angels carolling their Christmases down from 
the sky ! ’ How little can we estimate the effect of such 
seasons upon the hearts of the young, or imagine how, in after 
years, they will turn back in thought to the Sabbath hymns 
80 vigorously sung in their childhood I 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


243 


Miss North always walked early to the church of their 
own parish to manage the school ; of late she had engaged 
Clara and Antonia to accompany her and take a small class ; 
more, Miss North said, as a useful employment for them and 
an evidence of their interest, than from any necessity ; for the 
school was not large, and the Kector’s two daughters always 
assisted. On this eventful Sunday Miss North had gone off 
as usual with her two younger companions, not having an idea 
that any change in the family arrangements would be made. 
When the carriage came round to convey the General and Mrs. 
North to church, tlwe General ordered it to drive to the Alps. 

‘ To the church, sir ? ’ 

‘ Cortainly ! ’ and the carriage rolled swiftly away. The 
bell was tolling in when the General, Mrs. North, and Leo- 
nore entered the church; the veteran soldier looked round, 
for the first time in his life, on his tenantry and dependants 
united together as a worshipping congregation, not by re- 
ligious experience or habit, but by a living infiuence which 
had already made itself felt in its attracting power among 
them, even “ the love of the Spirit ! ” 

The service began ; the pastor’s tones, though not loud, 
sank down into every ear, and their fervent supplication as- 
cended to Heaven. When he entered the pulpit and stood 
up with his small Bible in his hand, and looked on the flock 
of his charge, whose souls, if his warning were not faithfully 
given, would be required at his hands, he paused for a moment 
under the awful weight of such divine declarations of pastoral 
responsibility; he paused as if unable to begin. Then again, 


244 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


he heard the still small voice that on the shores of Gennesa* 
reth’s lake said to the fishermen of Galilee, “ Follow Me,” 
and strengthened in heart he opened his Bible and gave out 
his text from the Gospel of St. John, chapter 1, part of verse 
6 — “ A man sent from God.” The pastor wished his people 
to know the authority he bore — From whom he came. Why 
he came, and Who he was. From whom he came — from God. 
‘‘ A man sent from God,” from the Father everlasting ; from 
that God who had made man to be holy^ to be happy, to live 
for ever. And when man chose sin, and misery, and death, 
still God would not let His poor prodigaJ perish, but made 
a way by which he might return to his Heavenly Father’s 
heart, even through the blood of God’s beloved Son, Jesus 
the Saviour, which can cleanse the poor sinner from all sin, 
and make him happy again in the presence of God. It was 
from God, a God so full of love, that he was come. Why he 
came, — he came because God sent him ; “ a man sent from 
God.” He was sent / he had not come of himself, but he 
had come as a messenger, bearing a message to them from 
Him by whom he was sent. God, this God of love, sent him 
to them, sent him with a message \ and he should have to 
return to God and tell how he had been received, how his 
message was listened to, with what attention, with what be- 
lief, with what obedience. He must render an account to 
God of all. He had many things which God had sent him 
to say to them ; they were all things belonging to their peace, 
all sent as a message from God’s heart of love for them ; and 
because they had to eat bread in the sweat of their brow, 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


245 


therefore God had graciously appointed that they should 
come up every seventh day to meet His messenger and hear 
His message, that every week they might learn more ; and 
keep all in memory by being reminded of what they had 
heard before. — He was “ sent from God.” Who he was, — a 
man ; z.man sent from God,” a man subject to like passions 
with themselves ; one who could understand their tempta- 
tions ; feel their weakness, their ignorance ; suffer in their 
wants and their sorrows. A man; one they could talk to, 
as friend with friend ; telling all their difficulties, their de- 
sires, their fears. Not an angel, to whom they would be 
afraid to speak freely, but a man, one of themselves, to whom 
they could say all that was in their heart. Not a spirit, who 
if he came would soon depart again, but a man come to dwell 
among them, whom they could call to their homes and their 
side by night or by day,, in sorrow or in joy, in sickness and 
in health, in life and in death. “ A man sent from God.” 
What was their feeling ? Hid they not love the God of love 
who had not left them to perish, but had made a way by send- 
ing His Son to die for them on the tree, that every one might 
return like the prodigal son to his father’s embrace ? Would 
they not prove their love' by coming to listen to the message 
G-od had sent, and by trying in every way to obey ? If they 
would do this, how happy for them ! Then, when he went 
back to God who sent him, and God asked about them, he 
would be able to say, ‘ They are coming ! they are all com- 
ing ! old men and aged women, fathers and mothers, young 
men and maidens, and little children, — they are coming 


246 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


every one ! I told them Thy words, and they received them, 
and believed that I came from Thee, and that Thou didst send 
me as Thy messenger to them. And they will soon be all gath- 
ered in Heaven, holy and without blame before Thee in love. 

There was a simplicity and pointed earnestness in the 
preacher’s style which every mind apprehended ; no involved 
sentences, no successive steps of argument. Saxon as pure 
as John Bunyan’s, conveying the Heavenly truth which his 
own soul had so strongly grasped, that it could distil it even 
on minds whose power of apprehension was weakest. But 
his style, transparent in simplicity, never stooped to pick up 
aid from analogies of earth which had no native affinity with 
his subject ; illustrations it had, familiar and natural, but 
not one that lowered the mind to the things of sense alone, 
instead of raising it by an illustration which unfolded more 
clearly divine relationships and truths. While the depth of 
his own spirit’s intense love for the Master he served and the 
souls he came to win, breathed a living pathos and a spiritual 
unction from the message that he gave. 

In the afternoon the church was crowded ; it seemed to 
the Captain as he looked from the chancel on pews, aisles, and 
belfry, as if the pastor’s own thrilling declaration, “ They are 
coming ! they are coming ! every one ! ” was responded to 
already. 

The text of the sermon was taken from the same chapter ; 
the words, There standeth One among you whom you know 
not.” ‘ You know, for I declared to you this morning from 
whom 1 am come, why I am come, and who I am j even “ a 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 247 

man sent from God.” But I have still to tell you that “ there 
standeth One among you, whom,” as yet, many of “ you know 
not.” I have a wonderful fact to tell you; He who sent me 
is come Himself. Surely God is in this place and you knew 
it not ! He does not show Himself openly ; when He has on 
some occasions done so. His greatness has struck fear into 
the heart.’ (The instances were given of Manoah in the field, 
and the beloved disciple at Patmos.) ‘ But He is here : He 
is a God at hand, and not a God afar off. His eye marks all 
our wants ’ — (instanced from Hagar in the wilderness : “ Thou, 
God, seest me.”) ‘ His ear listens to our every word from 

dawn of day to set of sun, and all the night through : “ Thou 
art about my path, and about my bed, and spiest out all my 
ways ; for there is not a word in my tongue, but Thou, 0 
Lord, knowest it altogether.” He takes notice of the falling 
sparrow, clothes the lilies of the field, and feeds the hungry 
birds. Have you known Him ? Have you remembered His 
presence ? Have you feared to sin against Him ? 0, my 

people, I am come to say to you, “ Behold Him ! ” He is 
waiting to see how I deliver my message, and how you re- 
ceive it. Here we are gathered together in His Name, and 
He is in the midst of us. Behold Him ! He is not only 
your Creator, He is also your Saviour, who gave Himself for 
your sins, tasting death for you, — the Lamb of God, whoso 
'‘blood cleanseth from all sin.” He is here to see who lis- 
tens, who believes, who loves to hear of Him. He will be in 
your homes, to see who remembers Him, who commands their 
household after His holy will, who prays to Him in secret 


248 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


for the forgiveness of sins, and for help in every time of need. 
He will be near you in your daily labour. “ He considereth 
all our works.” Jacob laid down in a desert place for a 
night’s rest, with the hard ground for his bed, and a stone 
for his pillow, and when he awoke he said, Surely the Loi d 
is in this place and I knew it not ! ” 

‘ “ There standeth One among you whom you know not.” 
Do you wish to know Him ? I can tell you of Him, but I 
cannot give you the knowledge of Him. I can say, “Behold 
Him! ” but I cannot show Him to you. You have eyes, 
and yet you see Him not ; ears, and yet you hear Him not. 
How is this ? Satan, the god of this world, has blinded your 
minds, that you may not see the Saviour of men, and may not 
hear His “ still small voice” bidding you come unto Him that 
He may give you rest. Satan has done this, and you, by con- 
senting to sin, have given Satan this power. Lift up your 
prayer, then, to your Saviour, your merciful God, who is wait- 
ing to be gracious. Ask Him to send His Holy Spirit down 
into your heart, to* drive the devil out of it. Ask for the 
Holy Spirit, and God will send Him to you ; and when He is 
come. He will open your eyes to see, your ears to hear, 
and your heart to love and obey. He will enable you to 
behold your God, and to walk with him.’ Then, with an ear- 
nest appeal to those who already knew these things, that 
“ whereunto they had already attained,” they should by 
watchfulness and prayer continually seek to walk, “ looking 
unto Jesus,” setting the Lord always before them, and doing 
His will from the heart, the sermon concluded. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


249 


By the next Sunday, Mrs. Barrington had filled the chan- 
cel with forms, and the pastor, the Captain, and the aged 
Bora, divided the children between them, the old man filling 
his seat on the chancel bench, where the voice of the pastor 
fell best on his ear. 

There had always been in the parish a strong feeling of 
respect for Greneral North and the Captain, not only among 
their own tenantry and dependants, but equally with those 
on the then less befriended Bogei-de-Lee estate. But re- 
spect for the pastor there had not been. When the Curate 
from the neighbouring town entered on his temporary charge, 
his feeling of the respect due to him personally was con- 
stantly disturbed by the villagers passing him by with no 
token of reverence. He had always waited for the reverence 
to himself before his look of recognition was given. It might 
be that he aimed at recalling the old feeling, fast fading 
away, of respect for an office ; or it might be he felt a natural 
wish for respect towards himself : but he did not know, as 
yet, that the hand of the peasant is more effectually raised 
by the secret springs of his own hearty good will, than by 
any external requirement. He did not gain his point, and 
* his glances of disapprobation only nailed more effectually the 
hat to the head. Edward Seymour did not trouble himself 
much about the reverence due to himself ; his mind was al- 
ways intent on the state of the heart ; the happiness, the 
welfare, the joys and sorrows, efforts and difficulties of all 
around him ; he won the stronghold of hearts, and it was not 
very long before, if tokens of respect could have satisfied, he 
11 # 


250 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


had them to the utmost : if the children forgot their rever- 
ences, it was not in their indifference, hut their love, little 
hands that had forgotten to touch their hats, would he thrust 
into his, and infant sorrows would be poured out to his lis- 
tening ear. He was “ gentle among them as a nurse cherish- 
eth her children.” He walked in the love wherewith God 
had loved him, and “ love is stronger than death ; ” and 
“ love is the fulfilling of the law.” 

Miss North had been not a little surprised at the absence 
of her parents from their own parish church, and hastily 
greeted her father, ‘ I had not the least idea, papa, that you 
and mamma were not coming to church as usual.’ 

‘ No, I do not suppose any one had, except your mamma 
and Harry ; hut now you may give general information that 
I shall attend nowhere else, until the same truth can be 
preached and exhibited in the life elsewhere. And you may 
add, if you like, by way of a reason, “ If the trumpet give 
an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle ? ” ’ 

‘ I think great offence must be given if you quite forsake 
our own church for the Alps ! ” ’ 

* Quite, or not at all, Anastasia ! No half-and-half 
measures for me ! If I see the light I will follow it, and^ 
not sometimes go after a little darkness instead. And as to 
offence, I have given that fifty times, by speaking the truth ; 
therefore it is a mere act of consistency to give it now by 
hearing the truth.’ And then, looking round on all, he add- 
ed, ‘ Make your choice, my children ; I invite you to take 
my counsel and come with me.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


251 


This, of course, was conclusive with Clara and Antonia^ 
who were happy at the release and the privilege. Antonia 
offered her services any time in the week for the school as a 
compensation, hut these were not accepted. Anastasia was 
annoyed ; it wa-s a trying position for her ; humility, truth, 
and love, would have triumphed over the difficulty, hut An- 
astasia only stumbled at it. She went always as before to 
their own parish church, making continually the vain attempt 
to smooth matters, — ^half excusing, half explaining ; in this 
way lessening the startling effect that such a silent witness as 
the General leaving his own parish church might have had. 


252 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE 


CHAPTEK XYI. 

In the spring of this year, Laura again met Mrs. Bar 
rington at a dinner-party at the Hall. She felt secretly 
glad that so it was, hut determined to conceal her real feel- 
ing with a show of perfect indifference. When the ladies 
left the drawing-room, Mrs. Barrington took her seat on a 
sofa hy Laura, and made a friendly attempt at conversation. 
Laura met it with a rudeness, not natural to her, under the 
mingled feeling of revenging her past disappointment at Mrs. 
Barrington’s refusing her mother’s invitation, and a wish to 
he able to show complete indifference towards one who had 
acquired an acknowledged influence on all sides. Laura re- 
turned an off-hand response, then instantly rising, walked 
away. Mrs. Barrington had never sufficiently encouraged 
pride of heart to admit of its rising in resentment at rude- 
ness ; she was rather apt not to suppose it absolutely a per- 
sonal disrespect to herself, hut to believe it possible that it 
was the result of a yet ill-regulated disposition ; therefore 
Laura’s rudeness only awakened in her a question as to its 
cause, and whether that cause could be reached and exchanged 
for a brighter and happier source of feeling and expression. 

Laura had walked off in seeming independence ; but she 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


253 


felt no triumph at having been rude to Mrs. Barrington, 
her heart was too true to have satisfaction in rudeness to- 
wards any one for whom she felt respect, and the evening 
dragged heavily on. At length an irresistible chance drew 
out her mischievous wit to the utmost. One of the Rector’s 
daughters, Anastasia’s great ally, was taking up the offensive 
on behalf of parochial education, against the young wife of a 
tenant on the General’s estate, who became rather warm, 
though little qualified to discuss the subject, her opinion 
being founded on her husband’s annoyances. The antago- 
nists were very tolerably matched, and might fairly have ar- 
gued out the subject together ; but Laura must needs come 
in, though quite under cover at first, siding with the young 
wife of the tenant, who soon felt her antagonist give ground 
under the telling effects of Laura’s well-directed aim. An- 
astasia, in the distance, had no inclination to betray any con- 
sciousness; her poor ally looked vainly towards her, but 
Anastasia appeared entirely engrossed with the musical per- 
formances of the evening. The Rector’s daughter was com- 
pletely pent up in a corner, the young wife of the tenant 
triumphing in the victory. At this point Laura would, in a 
general way, have retired, and left her victim to escape, but 
thoroughly out of humour herself, she was glad of an oppor- 
tunity 0^ tyrannising a little, and resolved to bring her vic- 
tim to a full confession before she released her, which the 
Rector’s daughter most anxiously Avoided, considering it a 
weakness and a betrayal of the cause, which Anastasia would 
not fail to look upon as unworthy of one whom she had made 


254 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


her ally. Laura, reckless of all beside, had just given a very 
hard hit by way of bringing things to a point, when a low 
kind voice said from behind, ‘ If I had succeeded so well, I 
could afford to be a generous antagonist, and let my prisoner 
off on good terms at the end I ’ No one exactly heard or 
understood the murmured words except Laura ; she knew in a 
moment, and looked round on Mrs. Barrington, who directly 
spoke again, — 

‘ Suppose you change sides ; I will engage to defend your 
position, and you show our young friend what can be said in 
aid of her argument. Now then, I am ready ; it will only 
make a pleasant variety, quite as easy to you, and your an 
tagonist will accept your aid for education’s sake.’ 

This timely balance of power, together with the kindli- 
ness and playfulness of the tone, restored good-humour on 
all sides ; it put the Hector’s daughter at ease again, but the 
words and the tone fell into Laura’s heart far below the sur- 
face of the educational controversy. A grateful sense of un- 
deserved kindness rose within her, and its expression was not 
difficult to be read on her countenance. The Kector’s 
daughter and the young wife of the tenant, best satisfied to 
escape further discussion, were both making good their re-' 
treat, congratulating themselves in such an escape from the 
field ; and Mrs. Barrington invited Laura to a seat by her 
side. The seat she had so rudely left hardly more than an 
hour before was now her? again, and a voice, not of general 
kindliness, but of personal interest, addressed her, ‘ You were 
a little hard on your victim, I am afraid, were you not ? ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


255 


‘ Yes, I was. I am not always so ; but td-night I was 
cross, and wanted a vent for ill-humour.’ 

‘ Do you generally find it in pursuit of the ludicrous ? ’ 

‘ I don’t often want it for that, because I am not often 
cross, unless my wishes are put out of the question. I first 
took to it as a relief to the endless monotony of all things ; 
and now it pursues me, and I am fated all my life to see 
family faces in burning coals, fictions in facts, and absurdities 
in all things ! ’ 

‘ Very likely to be so ! Our own minds give their hue 
to all things around us.’ 

Laura was not at all prepared for this assent to her hope- 
less assertion : fixing an unconsciously anxious look on Mrs. 
Barrington, she said, ‘ Then you think that there is nothing 
for me but resignation to my fate ? ’ 

‘ No, I do not say that ; I would certainly recommend a 
struggle for liberty rather than to live a slave to any pro- 
pensity.’ 

‘ I have no doubt it would be a finer thing in theory ; but 
really, when you come to experience, the monotony of society 
is so absolute that one cannot withstand the temptation of 
getting up a little effervescence on the surface. I do assure 
you, that in the general society of this neighbourhood every 
one is bottled-up at the evening’s end, to come out again ex- 
actly the same mixture — material, weight, and measure, on 
the next occasion I Could any one resist working it up to a 
slight froth of superficial freshness ? ’ 

‘ I dare say not, if you possess the power, and that one 


256 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 




power only ! Yet in every circle, and almost every individual, 
there is something fresh, if you had the skill to draw it out ; 
but if you are on the search for the comic alone, the beautiful 
in all things will be sure to lie hidden from your view ! ’ 

‘ It is hopeless now ! Whatever I might intend to dis- 
cover, this discerning faculty I have cultivated would always 
point out a touch of the ridiculous.’ 

‘ If you really wish to liberate yourself from such a ne- 
cessity, why not turn for a time to things which cannot be 
converted into ridicule ? I suppose you have hardly laughed 
secretly at a flower ? ’ 

‘ 0 innocent and lovely things ! They were once the 
blessing of my life ; but papa has a first-rate gardener now, 
and our garden, which is not very large, is laid out, every 
foot of it, in exact regularity. Year after year there is the 
same monotony about it, until I have settled it all into a 
cultivated circle of society. In one place we have a tri- 
angle of blue, in another of scarlet, in another of orange, and 
the stiff array of flowers seem mutually engaged in paying 
compliments and showing off themelves, as if they had all 
dressed up in different uniforms for a public masquerade ; 
and I am tired out and out of the things I once loved.’ 

* That is a pity. Gould you not obtain permission to in- 
troduce a little more natural variety and freedom ? ’ 

‘ 0 no ; I have begged to be allowed to take charge of 
the garden with only the under-man for hard work, but papa 
would not hear of it ; he said I should only get it all in dis« 
order, and give it up in a month.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


257 


* Poor child ! But perhaps you have not shown perse* 
verance enough in things that your parents require for them 
to trust you in your own line ? ’ 

‘ I don’t think that papa and mamma care much about my 
doing anything that I don’t like ; but papa’s garden is his 
fancy, and every blade of grass must grow as a blade of grass 
should grow ! I used to get up while all the house were asleep 
and gather the flowers, and arrange them at my will, but the 
gardener complained to papa that he could keep nothing 
choice, so now I have to ask for a nosegay, and of course I 
don’t care to have it.’ 

‘ Certainly it looks rather hopeless, and I should feel very 
much as you do. What do you say to becoming head-gardener 
for me ? I have ground wild enough to entertain you at will.’ 

‘ Do you really mean it ? ’ asked Laura, in unbelieving 
delight. 

‘ Indeed I do, my dear ; I shall be most happy to see you 
busy at your pleasure about the old place. I can promise you 
a workman from the village, and sometimes my old coachman 
can help, but they neither of them possess much knowledge, 
so you must arrange and direct, and they shall work.’ 

‘ 0, how exquisite ! Indeed, indeed I think you will cure 
me ! I feel almost as if that ugly old doge of mine were dead 
already ! ’ 

Mrs. Barrington, with a smile of more than usual kind- 
ness replied, ^ We shall be happy, indeed, if we can bury a 
tyrannous necessity at the foot of the first tree we come to ! ’ 

‘ When may I begin ? ’ 


258 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ To-morrow, if you like.’ 

‘ But may I ask your advice about the flowers ? ’ 

‘ 0 yes ! I am not easily interrupted, so you need never 
fear an appeal.’ 

‘ What happiness ! ’ exclaimed Laura, and all the discon- 
tent of her aspect had passed into a glow of innocent delight 
at this betrothment to the flowers at her will. 

Laura had found the one influence that her character 
naturally wanted, — a superior mind, gentle in its decision, 
able and willing to understand and take an interest in the 
path she trod. 

Early and late in that spring-time Laura was seen, rosy 
with labour, and often looking up for a glance from those ivy- 
mantled windows, or for the smile that she reverenced and 
loved, or a word of direction and praise. Sometimes she 
gathered bright companions round her, Clara, Antonia, and 
Leonore, and they lighted up the foreground of the old 
moated Grange, or they might be seen among the near re- 
cesses of its pine-woods, training a bright undergrowth of 
sweet blossoming creepers. On any emergency, old Allen, 
the head-gardener from the Hall, gave his counsel on the spot ; 
and the old scarlet veteran, and the younger workman, who 
was no other than the husband of Clara’s first cottage friend, 
both aided, and learned a great amount of knowledge from 
experience, — at least so Laura asserted. And Mrs. Barring- 
ton was happier in the young life of hearts healthfully open- 
ing to the influence of Nature around them, than she would 
have been in the most finished perfection of artistic gardening. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


259 


“ Considering the lilies,” Lanra found a life and refreshment, 
which supplanted the need of all that before had found its 
fuel in the annoyance and ridicule of others. And so work 
became a blessing, as it first was in Eden ; and because one 
spirit of higher and deeper tone had cared to know, why such 
rugged mazes were chosen by a young heart to wander in. 
instead of paths of pleasantness and peace, — had cared to 
know why, and to understand and meet the want, that young 
heart was rescued and raised to a life of bright enduring re- 
alities, whose first steps— as we have seen — were strewn for 
her feet with spring-flowers. 

Let it not be thought that the old moated Grange fur- 
nished a means which could otherwise not have been found ; 
the heart devising that remedy, if it had not been at hand, 
would have found out some other no less effectual. The skill 
of the workman is in finding his material and bringing it to 
bear, “ his God doth instruct him and teach him.” 

In the summer the new Kectory rose on the site of the old 
house, shaded by the same old trees, and looking forth from 
the hilPs western side on the same lovely landscape of inter- 
mingling hill and valley as before. “ One generation passeth, 
and another generation cometh,” but each during its brief 
stay is writing on the leaves of time the record of its life, — the 
fresh unwritten leaves lie waiting the fresh comer still, because 
the volume of the book is not yet complete, but when it is, then 
will the perfect record of the whole life of each one be there I 

One room in the new Kectory may claim a short descrip- 
tion; it occupied a complete end in length, and was lighted 


260 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


by a large window to the east, to the west it opened with 
glass doors upon the lawn, it was warmed by one large open 
fireplace, and hung with engravings of Scripture subjects. 
A door from the study opened into it, another door in it 
opened with a porch to the garden. It was used for the 
household prayers morning and evening, and any of the poor 
who came up were able at once to enter it by the porch to the 
garden. It was also used as a dining-room, and served every 
purpose for which a large room was required ; the rising and 
the setting sun gave it always a cheerful aspect ; and its large 
logs of burning wood, supported only by the iron dogs, gave 
it in winter a bright and glowing warmth ; the floor was cov- 
ered with a matting of cocoa-nut fibre, and its chairs and 
benches were of very homely construction ; but it soon be- 
came a favourite and familiar room, peopled with the incor- 
poral forms of bright and blessed associations. 

All this was agreeable to the taste of the Captain ; but on 
the fitting up of the other apartments a discussion arose be- 
tween Edward Seymour and Captain North, the latter main- 
tained that the choice must be between the elegance and ease 
of modern furniture, or the curious antique of Mrs. Barring- 
ton’s. 

‘ It may be so for the Squire,’ Edward Seymour replied, 

‘ but the pastor has a position of his own, a position more en- 
tirely independent of circumstantials than any other can be 
on earth, — a spiritual position, and one, therefore, at liberty 
to discard all attractions apart from those of the spirit that 
it breathes. I do not mean to say that in furnishing my 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


261 


house I would choose an ugly form in preference to a tasteful 
one, or a dull hue in preference to a cheerful one, hut I will 
have no costliness, no assumption of style ! If my Rectory pos- 
sesses attractiveness, of which I could not be satisfied that it be 
devoid, it shall owe it as far as possible to its pervading spirit ! ’ 

‘ Of course, my dear fellow, no one visits his friends be- 
cause his chairs are of satin-wood, and his carpets from Per- 
sia.’ 

* I am not so sure of that ; I strongly suspect that many and 
many a dwelling owes more than its guests would be willing 
to confess to its mere circumstantials ; strip it of its style, 
and where are the many who formerly were often to be found 
there ? The attraction that once was there has passed away 
for them ! ’ 

* Well, so far as that, the eye misses what it is accus- 
tomed to, and people expect in a gentleman’s residence its 
ordinary accompaniments.’ 

‘ 0 North, say rather the eye has too often more appetite 
than the mind or the heart ! Satisfy the eye and the ear 
with the polished embellishments of fashionable taste, and 
the mind and the heart will give in to very meagre fare. 
Who should raise a witness against this, if not those whose 
position is a spiritucd one ? What avails it that we are for 
ever proclaiming “ The fashion of this world passeth away,” 
if yet we follow after it as closely as possible ? I do not 
wish my Rectory to be a dull, tasteless place ; I would glad- 
ly have it capable of presenting an attractiveness extending 
throughout the long line from the prince to the peasant ; but 


262 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


I am quite sure that more is lost than is gained by introdu 
cing conventional style : the moment you consent to this, you 
merge the universal in the exclusive, and surely the pastor’s 
aim in all things should be the universal in opposition to the 
exclusive? The Master, in whose service I have been 
brought here, has declared, “ All souls are mine ! ” Let my 
dwelling then be equally open to all, equally attractive to 
the true-hearted in every rank ; even as I trust my time, my 
counsel, and my effort, will be for all without distinction. 
And truly. North, I sometimes fear the artizan will rise to 
the dominant faction of mind, for where intellectual taste 
stoops to the slavery of fashion, it must of necessity lower 
its whole standard and cripple its whole power.’ 

‘ Well, Seymour, I reverence your feeling. I can give 
you the interest of a brother, if I cannot offer the taste of a 
friend.’ 

Captain North recounted to his father the conversation 
with Edward Seymour. The General said it was a feeling 
he could understand and approve ; but he added, ‘ We ought 
to contribute something permanent to the home of your 
friend ; and as it seems we cannot gratify him by the gift of 
a candelabra, I think we had better adorn it with some one 
of the paintings that crowd our own walls.’ 

‘ I do not suppose he would accept it. He said he was 
resolved against all costliness of embellishment in his home ; 
he thinks simplicity more suitable to one whose calling is not 
of the world.’ 

‘ 0 Harry ! I read him better than you do ; and so I 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


2C3 


ought, for I have known the world longer. Take him that 
small Salvator Rosa from the dining-room, where no one 
ever discovers its beauty, hardly its existence, and he will 
hang it on his study- walls with delight.’ 

‘ Swerve from his principle, then you think, at the first 
attractive temptation ? ’ 

‘ No such thing ! It is not the noble efforts of genius he 
is resolved to exclude in his pastoral dwelling, but the use- 
less decorations of fashionable life. Painting is a mental 
reflection of Nature, a shadowy creation by the child in imi- 
tation of the Almighty Father. Neither is your friend 
acting upon a narrow prejudice, but upon a broad principle ; 
and I feel persuaded that he would not be induced to give 
it up. I look with a keen eye on the carrying out of prin- 
ciples far newer to me than to you, principles whose claim 
is to an origin from above. Your friend won my confidence 
from the first, as did his patroness, Mrs. Barrington.’ 

‘ What was it in them that won it' so quickly ? ’ 

‘ The perfect nature about them ; there was no fettering 
chain ! I would defy any one to talk with thcin, and not 
allow that in them is a spirit walking at liberty. I do not 
say it of them alone, it is equally true of Harry North, 
and that angelic Antonia from the first hour that she entered 
this house as a child.’ 

‘ How, then, father, does it strike you with others ? 

‘ Well, I believe you will find one of three great motives 
impelling most men forward — expediency, duty, or love. 
Expediency is a wide straggler over the face of the earth, 


264 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


and cheats every follower it has. Duty is a high motive, 
but not a supreme one, and because it is not supreme I be- 
lieve it very readily admits of self-deception j but when a 
man follows his aim from love, you will not easily find him 
swerviug from it. The following out a purpose from duty 
alone gives a constraint ; it presses unduly at one point, and 
stops short at another: it does not command the whole 
being, and so breathes not in harmony; it has a rigidity 
about it that repels even when you respect the motive. But 
let a man follow his aims from the love of them, and they 
all flow on naturally ; and there exists the fullest human 
hope that can exist of awakening in others a feeling of re- 
sponse.’ 

Captain North thought it still his safest course to com- 
municate the intention before bestowing the gift; but he 
found that his father’s habit of observation had enabled him, 
from short intercourse, to estimate truly. Edward Seymour 
fired up from his ordinary repose in the expression of his 
pleasure, until the Captain exclaimed, ‘Well, really, my 
father kn(^ you better than I did. I should have certainly 
taken for granted that pictures would have been amongst 
the lading cast overboard to lighten the ship.’ 

‘ 0 North, what a shame to have so misunderstood me I 
I might as well cut down that solitary cedar on the lawn as 
refuse such a picture for my walls — a crime against my fel- 
lows, seeing both hold their place among the elevating inspira- 
tions of earth.’ 

The picture was hung above the study mantelpiece, 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 265 

where it caught the western glow in its glory ; and instead 
of being one overlooked among numbers it became a constant 
object of refreshment and pleasure. 

Mrs. Barrington built a schoolroom, to which General 
North liberally contributed ; and the village-schoolmistress, 
who had worked under Mr. Seymour in his curacy with 
happy influence and success, was allowed to follow him, and 
take the entire charge of his school at the “ Alps.” 

So the Rectory, and all that belonged to it, was flnished, 
with the exception of the drawing-room, which was for the 
present left untouched. Edward Seymour was very fond 
of his large room, which was a great comfort to old Dora, 
as it gave her sometimes the opportunity of giving the study 
“ a righting.” But her master was never long content to 
sit anywhere save in the midst of his books ; and one shadowy 
companionship he had in that study which he never seemed 
long satisfied without — a miniature picture of his mother, 
who passed from earth before his life had unfolded to definite 
purpose, but her spirit had given its tone to that of her son. 
The Bible from his infancy looked bright, because linked 
with her smile ; and God must be Love, because his mother 
breathed His Name and His blessing in her tenderest em- 
brace of her child. Such were his feelings and conclusions 
in childhood. And often did he rise from his book or his 
pen, and gaze intently on that buried face, as though he 
dreamed he could waken response, and meet the breathing 
of love or of blessing. 


12 


266 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE 


CHAPTER XYII. 

‘ I MET that poor mad woman in the village to-day ! said 
Anastasia, as the cloth was removing from table ; ‘ she real- 
ly terrified me, for before she has always started away and 
avoided me, but to-day she stopped, put aside her veil, and 
fixed such a look upon me, as if she were going to say some- 
thing terrible. I really was too frightened to stop, and 
hastened on. I suppose she must have heard of my call 
upon her, and so wished to speak to me. I am sure I hope 
I shall not meet her again ; I could not describe the wild 
expression of her countenance.’ 

No immediate response was made by any one to Anasta- 
sia’s description of her walking encounter; but when the 
servants were gone. General North said severely, ‘ If you 
choose to pronounce people mad, Ailastasia, I desire that 
you only do so in your own family ; I will not allow such 
loose charges to be circulated on authority through my house- 
hold I What grounds have you for asserting this individual 
of whom you speak to be mad ? ’ 

‘ Every one takes it for granted ; her appearance and 
manner are enough; she is always walking alone, in the 
loneliest places, dressed in a forlorn way, starting aside if 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


267 


any one meets her; and, towards evening, a person who 
looks like a sort of attendant, goes out and gives her her 
arm, and brings her home. I have met them myself, and 
heard of them continually in the village.’ 

Then the General said earnestly, ‘ My dear Anastasia, it 
distresses me to see you continually allowing yourself in thus 
building up assertion from inferences of your own, and of 
others equally unworthy of trust ! Get any lover of truth-) 
for its own sake — to say nothing of charity — and let all you 
have just now said be sifted, and I will engage it will all be 
resolved into shadow alone. It is this way of speaking, both 
of facts and of persons, which is the bane of society ; I will 
never allow it to pass current in my house, therefore you 
must correct the tendency, or check the expression of it,’ 

Days passed on : Anastasia did not venture to refer to 
the subject again ; by most it was forgotten, but Antonia 
still thought on the stranger ! She had met her when riding 
out with her uncle, and it was once in a lonely place ; but 
the stranger had not started aside, she had passed on as if 
unobserving. 

The stranger referred to had taken lodgings at the carpen- 
ter’s shop, and had not been many weeks in the village. An- 
tonia asked (/hetwind if she knew anything about her. Chet- 
wind said that she only heard that she had engaged the lodg- 
ings for six months, and was there with a young woman who 
came with her and always waited on her. But Miss North 
said that the poor thing was out of her mind ; and as Miss 
North had inquired at the house, no doubt she had heard it 


268 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


there ; the people of the village had got the same notion, but 
by what Chetwind could learn, it seemed to her they all took 
it up from what Miss North had said or asked when she 
called about at the houses ; so how it really was, Chetwind was 
sure she did not know. 

‘ Aunt,’ said Antonia, ‘ I cannot forget that poor lady in 
the village, whom cousin Anastasia supposes to be mad I I 
really do not think she is mad ! I wish I might call and 
leave her some flowers ? ’ 

‘ I don’t suppose she is a lady, my dear I Your cousin 
says she is a forlorn, wild-looking person, but she may be 
equally pleased with flowers ; you may take her any you like.’ 

‘ I am afraid cousin Anastasia will not like my attempt- 
ing to see her when she has been refused admittance ? ’ 

‘ You cannot help that ; when people are ready to be of- 
fended, some cause is sure to arise ; but if you feel any hesita- 
tion, you had better take the flowers from me ; if I send you, 
it will put an end to the difficulty.’ 

Antonia gathered rose-buds whose full beauty was yet to 
come. The head-gardener passed by as she was gathering 
them, and she told him who they were for ; he fetched a little 
basket in which he laid some sprigs of green to blend with 
the roses, and as he gave it to Antonia for the flowers, he said : 

‘ I always reckon that the flowers have been given full as 
much for the heart as for the head ; so, maybe, the poor thing 
will take pleasure in them, though she be mazed, as they say.’ 

‘ 0 Allen, I don’t think she is ! But I will tell you, if 1 
am able to find out, whether she is pleased with the flowers.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


265 


Allen bowed ; and as his eye followed Antonia for a mo- 
ment, with the basket of gathered rose-buds in her hand, he 
murmured, ‘ God bless her ! ’ 

Antonia had written a note which she laid on the 
flowers : — 

‘ Dear Madam, — My aunt, Mrs. North, begs your accept- 
ance of a few flowers. It gives me the greatest pleasure to 
be the bearer of them, in the hope that they may please you. 

‘ Yours most sincerely, 

‘ Antonia North. 

. ‘ I took the flowers, aunt, and the tears came into the 
good servant’s eyes when I gave her the little basket. She 
did not say anything about her mistress, but she thanked me 
herself so gratefully.’ 

‘ You had better take some more in a few days, and ask 
the gardener to gather you a basket of fruit. You can have 
them carried for you, or go down in the pony-chair if you like.’ 

‘ I shall like to carry them myself. I shall be so glad to 
go again : she may be in great sorrow^ and if so, perhaps she 
might be comforted.’ 

When Antonia went again with the basket of fruit on her 
arm, and the little basket of flowers in her hand, the servant 
said, — ‘ I think my mistress would see you, if you would be 
so kind as to wait while I ask her ? ’ 

Antonia was soon invited in, in to a little dreary room ; 
the blinds shut out the view of earth and sky — no books or 
work — a little ready-furnished room let as a lodging. 


270 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


The stranger sat there all alone, her pale and grief-worn 
face unveiled, hut her eyes were not raised ; she had the little 
basket of flowers just brought by Antonia before her, and 
she looked on them. She rose a moment as Antonia entered, 
and said, — ‘ I wished to thank you for your great kindness 
to me, a stranger.’ 

Antonia took a seat near her rather than opposite, and 
said in response, ‘ It was a great pleasure to me to bring my 
aunt’s little gift ; I had to choose the flowers, and I wondered 
what flower you thought most beautiful ? I made a guess, 
and brought you rose-buds.’ 

‘ They are all beautiful, but not for me ! ’ 

‘0 yes ; the beauty of these flowers is all for you ! not 
one has opened yet, they will all unfold beneath your care, 
and bloom for you ? ’ 

‘ You are very kind j they shall not want care.’ 

‘ Nor love ? ’ asked Antonia pleadingly. 

‘ Love / ’ said the stranger wildly, ‘ love is dead for me ! ’ 

‘ 0 but you can love these flowers,’ said Antonia, with 
earnest gentleness — ‘ these sweet flowers, gathered and un- 
folding for you ? ’ 

For a while the stranger pondered, then answered in a 
low sad tone, ‘Yes, I can love the flowers.’ 

‘ And the God who made them, and sends them to you I ’ 
tenderly added Antonia, as without seeming to expect re- 
sponse, she rose, pressed the stranger’s hand in hers, and was 
gone. 

In a few days Antonia called again. The servant said 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


271 


her mistress was out walking, and begged Antonia to come 
again soon. When the stranger found that Antonia had 
been in her absence, she would not on the next day, nor on 
the following, take her usual walk — her wandering walk, as 
if she knew not whither, — cared not where — she would not 
take her walk, but sat within. 

- On the third day Antonia called early, and was admitted 
to the little dreary room. 

‘ I am so glad to see you again ! ’ said Antonia ‘ I came 
early to-day that I might not miss you.’ 

‘ You would not have missed me ; I have not left the house 
since I heard you were coming again, and I should not until 
I had seen you ; but this room is as dreary as Death, I fear.’ 

‘ Death is not dreary to me,’ said Antonia in a tone whose 
music only breathed peace as she spoke ; and then without 
pursuing that subject, she added, ‘ I shall love to stay with 
you, if I may, for a little while this morning ? ’ 

The stranger looked up on Antonia, then rose, and with 
a feeling of prompt consideration, drew up the window-blind ; 
the window was open, and the blue sky smiled upon them, 
and the soft fleecy clouds floated by. 

‘ It is a lovely day,’ said Antonia, as she suddenly felt 
the transition from the curtained room to the bright expanse 
of Heaven. 

‘Yes; lovely for the happy! but Nature’s smile only 
mocks my deep misery, so I shut it out all the day long.’ 

‘ God has sent me to share that deep sorrow ’ said An« 
tonia most tenderly. 


272 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ No, no 1 I do not believe but that He will at least allow 
me the comfort of feeling that I have borne what He laid 
upon me uncomplained of and alone.’ 

* But it cannot comfort your sorrow to bear it alone ! ’ 

‘ No, I know it ; there is no comfort for me ; but for 
others to share it would be only added misery ! ’ 

‘ Not if sent by God ; it would be added misery to refuse 
what He sends ! ’ 

‘ What is it that makes you think that God sent you to 
share my sorrow with me ? ’ 

‘ Because I asked Him ! I thought of you night and 
day, prayed for you, loved you, before the first time that I 
called on you.’ 

‘ 0, could itr be possible ? ’ 

‘ Yes, indeed it was so ! it was God who put it in my 
heart ; and now He sends me to ask you if you can trust me ? ’ 

The desolate, the broken-hearted stranger could question 
with the pleader no longer ; one moment she looked on An- 
tonia, then hid her face and wept ; but her tears were not 
what they had been, it was not now anguish of spirit, but 
tenderness that had bid them flow, and they gave relief in- 
stead of exhaustion. Antonia felt this, and did not try to 
arrest them, but waited awhile until the mourner spoke 
through them, and said, — 

‘ “ Trust you ? ” Oh, yes ! trust you, and bless you ! 
God, who sends the desolation of sorrow, only knows what 
the mercy of sympathy is — such sympathy as can warm the 
numbed heart into feeling again !*’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 273 

‘ 0, then you will not deny me, but will let me share all ? ’ 
said Antonia, 

‘ No, not deny you ; but if I try to tell you my sorrow, I 
can only give facts, I cannot give all that made the life of 
those facts ! * 

‘ No, you cannot, but God can ! Only tell me the facts, 

V 

and God will give the feeling of all — all that is not still to be 
sacred between your heart and His — that He will keep hid- 
den. I shall be able to understand all except that 1 ’ 

The stranger looked as if she were unused to such whis- 
pers of faith ; but she met them as a child meets an influence 
it feels but understands not. For a while she sat silent by 
Antonia, her eyes raised to the soft summer sky through the 
open window before them. At length she said, — 

‘ 0, it is long, long since I have looked up to the sky ! 
Not once since I was left desolate and alone upon earth ; this 
hour, the first since that time which has brought me a sense 
of companionship, seems with it to have brought back the 
sky ! I have loved all beautiful things, for their own sake ; 
and the time was when they all seemed to smile upon me, but 
that time has gone by for ever ! ’ 

‘ Not for ever ! ^ replied Antonia, ‘ only for a little mo- 
ment, until we learn to love them not for their own sake 
alone, but for the sake of the Almighty Giver 1 ’ 

‘ Yes, I daresay we may reason so until we have tasted 
desolation’s cup, but then we find there is death in it — a lin- 
gering living death, by which all things we look on are shad 
owed to us.’ 


12 * 


274 


THE MINISTBY OP LIFE. 


‘ Do you see me in that shadow of Death ? ’ asked Antonia, 

The stranger turned her face instantly, with haste, as in 
surprise at the question, but quickly answered, ‘ No ; and I 
suppose that is why you are the first object I have been able 
to turn to ; but I did not know it until you asked me ! ’ 

‘ Shall I tell you why it is that you don’t see the same 
shadow over me ? ’ 

‘ Yes, if you can, tell me why.’ 

^ Because I have tasted the same cup ; but there was One 
who poured into that cup the balm of Life for me. I drink 
of it still, but it has not Death in it for me ; and the same 
balm of Life is waiting for you.’ 

‘ Have you, then, known sorrow ? ’ 

‘Yes, I am an orphan.’ 

‘ But have you a brother ? ’ 

‘ No, I was an only child ; when God took my parents, I 
came to friends I had never seen before.’ 

‘ Then you don’t know what it is to have had a brother, 
and to have lost him ! ’ 

‘ No, I could not tell you what it is ; but if you could bear 
to tell me something of it all, I think I could understand 
enough to make our hearts one in sorrow, as I trust they may 
yet be in joy.’ 

‘ I think I could tell you all,’ said the stranger, ‘ if you 
could come to me often so quietly as you have done to-day ; 
but I am so unused to talking now, that I cannot bear it long ; 
but I will not draw down that blind again,’ she added, with 
the faint gleam of a long-forgotten smile on her lips ; ‘ and I 
can think of all you have said because you said it.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


275 


Antonia sighed, for that ‘ because you said it,’ was still 
‘ the love of all beautiful things for their own sake ; ’ but she 
knew that to love for the sake of the Author and Griver of all 
good, must be a feeling enkindled by the felt presence of 
His love, and this she could ask, and believe that it would 
yet be given. 

From that day Antonia was always welcome to the eyes of 
the mourner. Many days passed before she adverted again 
to the fact of bereavement which had shadowed her life. But 
one evening, when Antonia had been sitting long with her — 
the General and Mrs. North dining out that day — as she lin- 
gered on, the repose of her presence seemed to steal over the 
weary spirit at her side, and the stranger that evening told 
her history. 

‘ We left England in our childhood ; I, at least, was a child, 
my brother was older. My mother died before we left. W e 
went because my father met with a reverse of fortune, which 
obliged him to sell our home. Oh, I remember our home so 
vividly ! but I dare not think of it now, for everywhere it 
brings before me my brother ! I remember so well the day 
when we packed up our treasures ; my father had said we must 
only have one certain box-full, and my brother persuaded me 
to leave all my toys, and we filled it with books, and he said 
he would be always my playfellow there, and teach me my 
lessons from the books that we took j and so he did • it was 
happiness to learn when he taught; and when my father put 
him in an office, which he did soon after we went, then we 
used to get up almost at dawn, and sit under the blossoming 


276 


THE MINISTRY^OF LIFE. 


shrubs and fruit-trees, and read. He always made me pidm- 
ise to lie down and sleep in the heat of the day, but I did 
not think then that he never could do that, tut had to work 
on hard in the close town. But he was well then. 0, 1 never 
dreamed he could die, and earth was a paradise to me ! Some- 
times of an evening he was tired, and then I was miserable, 
and we wandered hand in hand in wild lonely places, and wept 
for our home, and for England, where it then seemed to us 
there was no such hard work as he had in that close office 
shut up all the long day in that foreign land ! Then my 
father died, and we mourned for him ; but I still had my 
brother ! From that time his one effort was to bring me to 
England ; for this he worked harder still than before. I did 
not know it then, but I found afterwards that he thought he 
should have to leave me alone, and he could not bear to think 
of leaving me anywhere but in England. At last he had 
saved enough money, and we sailed. Those days and nights 
at sea ! 0, how beautiful they were, with England before us, 
and my brother always at my side ! Every day he grew 
stronger, until the tired look passed quite away, and we en- 
joyed all things together. My memories of England were 
vivid, though partial and few ; but we had looked upon it 
from afar with an intensity of feeling, that those whose home 
has never been separated from its sea-girt shores, its change- 
ful skies, and its green verdure, can perhaps seldom realize. 
In that far-off land we had read, we had loved, all that told 
of our country. From the prow of the vessel we watched at 
latest eve and the first dawn of day, for the distant glimpse 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


277 


of tlie white cliffs of its shore; and when we stood on its 
beach, and felt it was England— the feeling was one that 
wanted power of expression. 

‘ It was England, but we had yet to feel that England 
was no longer hoip ! My brother would not write to our 
relations until he had found a situation, because they had 
refused to countenance our return, and he felt sure they 
would look coldly upon us ; they could not understand that 
poverty in England looked brighter than riches abroad. So 
we went to a lodging in London, and he soon had a clerk’s 
place in an office ; and in the long evenings he showed me 
the wonders of London. But he soon grew tired with over- 
work again, and he said I looked pale ; and, though I did 
not tell him, I had a heart-sickness for the country, and 
longed to be away from all the hurry and turmoil of that 
endless city. So he answered an advertisement for a situa- 
tion in a country town, and we went ; and he took a little 
cottage of four rooms in the country, it was covered with 
roses, and shaded by a large oak, and its garden so pretty ! 
Here, again, we were happy ; it was England, and home ! 
My poor Lucy came to us there as our servant, and my 
brother walked to the town every day. Two blessed years 
we spent there ; but before this last winter was gone he 
broke a blood-vessel, and in a few weeks he had left me for 
jver I Then the world died to me, and I feel it can never 
live again — ^buried for me in his grave in that village church- 
yard. 0, I wish I were sleeping there with him ! Lucy 
has promised that I shall ; and we spend as little as possible, 


278 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


that there may he enough left to carry me to his grave, ani 
her to her home — only she never thinks of herself ! ’ 

‘ 0, never think of not having all you want,’ said An- 
tonia. ‘ I have more a great deal than I want, and we will 
share it altogether. I will show you w^t a sister can be ! 
and I will take care of Lucy, she shall have all she wants 
for herself, and for others too I ’ 

‘ Will you indeed take care of Lucy ? then my one care 
is gone ! 1 have always been afraid she would starve herself 

for me ; and that fear has haunted me night and day. I 
have no fear for myself, for one day he said to me, “ I did 
not think I should die so soon 1 but there is a hundred and 
fifty pounds laid by for you, and when that is gone then God 
will provide ! ” And so I know He will, for God will grant 
me to die before what my brother left for me is gone ! but I 
could not tell about Lucy, for he had not mentioned her, 
except to leave her his blessing, and his prayer that she 
would not leave me ! ’ 

‘ Do you wish to die ? ’ asked Antonia. 

‘ Yes, I do, because he is dead I but death has no bright- 
ness to me, as it had for him ; and this keeps me afraid that 
I may not go where he is. He sometimes asked me if I 
would not come and listen while he told me what it was 
made him happy ; but I was too utterly miserable, — I could 
not bear him even to be willing to leave me. I could not 
bear to think he was going to die ! I always turned away 
when he spoke of that ; and then he would clasp his hands, 
ind look upward, and pray.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


279 


‘ Then you don’t know how it was he found comfort ? ’ 

^ Yes ; he found it in his Bible, which he took to reading 
soon after we went to that village, and in the visits of the 
clergyman there ; but it then seemed to me we had been 
very happy without all that before, and I could not see why 
we wanted it then, for then he was well. Once, when he 
was dying, he said to me, “ 0 Edith,” he said, “ I had taught 
you all else, and at first I believed you would learn this, too, 
from me ; but this truth is holy, and I am sinful ; God Him- 
self must be your teacher, my sister ! ” I did not like it 
then ; but I have of^en thought of it since, for I am sure he 
had something that I know not of. “ Once,” he said to me, 
all my thought in that distant land was to bring you to 
England, that if I died, as I always felt I should, in my 
youth, I might not leave you an exile : but now all my 
thought is to leave you — not to England, but to Heaven ! ” 
and he told me to take his Bible for mine when he was gone, 
and I should find it all there.’ 

‘ Have you looked for it all in his Bible ? ’ asked Antonia. 
‘ No ; I have been only miserable. I could not look for 
anything when he was gone.’ 

‘ But the Bible would have led you to the Friend who 
gave peace to your brother — to Jesus — the one only Friend, 
who has borne all our griefs, and carried our sorrows. He 
would have taken the burden of your misery Himself, and 
poured into your heart the balm of His love ] it was He who 
did this for your brother, in the suffering of death, and the 
sorrow of leaving you alone.’ 


280 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


* I could not understand his being willing to leave me : I 
should have been miserable if I had had to die and leave him 1’ 

‘ But when you think of it now, would it comfort you if 
he had been wretched in death, instead of going in such peace 
to his Grod ? ’ 

‘ 0, no I it would have killed me if he had been wretched, 
and I could not have comforted or saved him ! I am thank- 
ful to God that he was happy ! But I am not happy ; and 
this makes me fear I shall not go where he is.’ 

^ But you will be happy if you will only look for happi- 
ness where he found it.’ 

‘ 0, I am too wretched and too faint at heart to be able 
to stir a step, or put out a hand, or even lift up one look in 
search of comfort ! 0 ! it is as I said, — desolation is death! ’ 

* Then, if you cannot even try to find it, only listen to 
me, and you will believe that there is a blessed hope of life 
and love coming to you.’ 

Antonia took from her bag her own little Bible, and read 
of Jairus’ daughter : — “ My daughter is even now dead; but 
come, lay thine hand upon her, and she shall live.” ‘ He 
who laid His hand on the ruler’s dead daughter,’ said An- 
tonia, ‘ is now drawing near to you : — I hear Him ! I see 
Him ! I feel His approach ! and even in desolationh death 
you can believe that He is able and willing to come to the 
desolate, the dead ! He has proved it by coming and drink- 
ing our cup of misery and of death to the dregs.’ 

The mourner was silent. Antonia spoke again : — ‘ You 
feel unable to go to Him, — unable to put out a hand to take 


THE MINISTRY OY LIFE. 


281 


hold of His, — ^unable to look up, — ^but can you not sigh to 
Him, and say, “ 0 Saviour, I cannot come to Thee 1 I beseech 
Thee, have mercy, and come Thyself unto me !” ’ 

Antonia left the stranger, but it was not long before she 
visited her again. She read then from Isaiah, — “ I have 
seen his ways, and will heal him. I will lead him also, and 
restore comforts unto him, and to his mourners. I create 
the fruit of the lips. Peace, peace to him that is far off, and 
to him that is near, saith the Lord ; and I will heal him.” 

Day after day Antonia breathed, unasked and unasking, 
some short utterance of the word that can quicken the dead. 
It could not be in vain. He who binds up the broken- 
hearted, and healeth the stroke of their wound, is the same 
“ who confirmeth the word of His servant, and performeth 
the counsel of His messengers — ^found by the weary who 
had sought Him not, — He gave her the water of life — she 
drank, and thirsted no more; He spoke to her heart — she 
believed, and entered into rest ; He bid her look unto Him — 
she looked, and was lightened. 

She still took her long and lonely walks, but they became 
communings with Heaven, now that Love — infinite, eternal 
Love — beamed through Nature’s smile around her. 

Once Antonia asked her if she would not let her take her 
alone in the pony carriage to the Alpine church on the 
Sunday ; but she said, ‘ 0 ! do not ask me ! I only go in 
lonely places ; I cannot face the world again. I have seen 
another world, which I am not afraid to enter.’ Then, 
repeating Antonia’s once-uttered words, she said with a 


282 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

smile, ‘ Death is not dreary to me now. Once I longed foi 
it in its dreariness, now I wait for it in its joy.’ 

Antonia still pleaded, but the stranger said. ‘Do not 
urge it: the possibility was lost before I saw^your smile of 
tenderness.’ 

‘ How lost ? ’ 

‘ I meant to spare you the pain of knowing that the 
village all believed me mad. I was told it was Miss North 
who gave the impression ; and all believed that she must 
know. Once, when I met her, I felt impelled to tell her the 
cruel wrong she did me, but courage failed me, and I could 
only hurry on. I had thought before that I knew what the 
world was : for when we lived in London my brother was 
always trying to make friends for me. I saw many homes 
then, friends of my father’s, and friends my brother made ; 
and I saw brothers in those homes ; but, oh ! they were too 
selfish, cold, indifferent, for me to have called them brothers ! 
When we left London, I never wished to live in the world 
again ; but it was here, in misery’s depth, I had to feel how 
cruel that world could be. I had come a stranger here, 
because I could not pay the rent of my little house, and 
Lucy knew this lodging. I had taken it for six months, 
because it made the rent less ; therefore, when I heard that 
cruel charge against me, I could not rush away, so I vowed 
myself to solitude, — a sinful vow ; but Heaven had mercy on 
me, and sent an angel messenger to lighten its eternal gloom. 
Earth asks no more of me, nor I of it : with you and my 
poor maid I trust myself until I enter where no heart is cold, 
no lips are cruel.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


283 


Antonia answered tremblingly, ‘ Indeed, my cousin did 
not mean to be unkind. Sbe wishes to be good to all.’ 

‘ Wishes are vain,’ replied the stranger, ‘ if they do not 
influence the life. Your wishes were living realities. Per- 
haps you little thought, when you wrote those few lines with 
the first flowers you brought, that they were to save a fellow- 
creature. I had heard the cruel falsehood, and was withering 
under it. Then came the flowers, and the words more lovely 
far to me. The flowers alone might have been left to beguile 
my madness, but I felt you would not write to one whom 
you believed bereft of reason ; and it seemed, in the fearful 
poise of my awful despair, that one token was sent to save me.’ 

The winter came. Antonia’s love, and the General’s and 
Mrs. North’s generous care, kept warmth in every form 
around the young frail stranger, but she would still take her 
long and lonely walks; she said that Nature alone with 
Heaven was earthly life to her ; that if she could not have 
it, she felt she could not live ; but her cough deepened and 
grew heavy, and her form wasted away. No one now thought 
the dying stranger mad ; her hurried step was slower, and 
her frightened glance was softened into peace. Old Allen, 
the head gardener, always saved some fruit and flowers from 
his best stores for her, and took them down himself. The 
good, kind Chetwind every day provided something to tempt 
the failing appetite ; and though she knew she should not see 
the stranger who by her care was fed, still she was always 
glad when she could take the delicacy down herself, and 
cheer her faithful maid. Mrs. Barrington wrote herself to 


284 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


beg the dying stranger to come and try tbe air of her warmer 
southern aspect j but she would be only where she was, and 
would see no one but Antonia. A general interest was 
excited in the village. One feeling pervaded all. So it is, — 
so it must ever be on earth, — a multitude will follow where 
one alone has led the way. ‘ A word is a winged seed, — none 
can tell when once it has gone forth what its harvest may 
be. Anastasia might well have learned a lesson for a lifetime. 
It is probable that she never could utter the same suppo- 
sition again ; but the root from which it sprang she sheltered 
still under astonishment how people could be so insane as to 
let the poor creature hear a mere common-place remark 
uttered without a thought of its ever reaching her. 

‘ Dear Antonia,’ said the stranger, ‘ I had last night a 
heavenly dream ! and yet it was of earth. I thought I was 
all alone on a wide, waste common, but I did not feel afraid 
because all round me grew a thickly-planted, strong, green 
hedge, so that it seemed nothing could come in through it to 
hurt me, nor I get out from it to lose my way. Then I felt 
safe and happy ; but presently I looked, and a great breach 
was made in that close sheltering hedge, and I felt no longer 
safe or happy, and only looked for danger and distress. But 
then I saw some one coming from the clouds, and I knew it was 
the Son of Man ; and he came towards me, calmly descending, 
with only a staff in His hand, and He alighted on the earth, 
and stood beside the open breach that had been made in that 
green hedge around me, and touched the vacant space with 
the staff He held, and there sprang up a crimson rose-bush, 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


285 


all in blossom, — so beautiful it was ! the deepest crimson 
glowing among its leaves of green, more beautiful than any 
rose I ever saw, and it filled all the vacant space. And 
then I saw that many other gaps were round me in that 
hedge, and I defenceless on all sides ; but I no sooner saw 
those other breaches made than there sprang up in each this 
rose-tree, until it bloomed around me everywhere, — all 
beauty, and all fragrance indescribable. Then I heard a 
voice that spoke to me : it spoke and said, “ The rose-tree is 
the love of God, filling up the breaches in the circle of our 
human affections.” Qh, then I was happy — ^happier than I 
ever felt before ; and I think it will last, because the dream 
was sent from Heaven.’ 

One Sunday, after the service, Chetwind went down to 
.the village to inquire for the stranger. The report was, bet- 
ter : her cough had been quiet, and the sleep of the night 
almost unbroken. 

Antonia went on the Monday up to the little chamber, 
where the dying stranger sat in an arm-chair Mrs. North had 
sent her, by the uncurtained, opened casement; the soft west- 
ern breeze, fragrant from the sea of blossoms it had traversed, 
breathed upon her brow. She looked upon Antonia, but did 
not speak. Her maid whispered, ‘ She slept all night, and 
still keeps quiet, as you see her now.’ 

Antonia sat beside her, and presently gently repeated the 
words, “ The Lord shall comfort Zion. He will comfort all 
her waste places. He will make her wilderness like Eden, 
and her desert like the garden of the Lord ; joy and gladness 


286 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of mel- 
ody Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return 

and come with singing unto Zion ; and everlasting joy shall 
be upon their head ; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and 
sorrow and mourning shall flee away.” 

The dying stranger seemed to listen, and presently said, 
‘ I have not been alone.’ 

‘ Who has been with you ? ’ asked Antonia. 

‘ I don’t know, for my eyes are dim ; but the music was 
very sweet. I don’t think they will leave me any more. I 
should not like them to go.’ 

Antonia turned away, hiding her farewell tears. 

‘ Will you call my poor Lucy now to lay me down ? I 
should like to sleep.’ 

Lucy was there, and she laid her young mistress gently, 
as a mother could her child, upon her dying pillow. Then 
looking up, the stranger said, ‘ Kiss me, my angel friend ! I 
shall hear that music in my sleep. I heard it all last night. 
Will you sit by me for a little while, that I may see you 
when I wake ? ’ 

Antonia stooped and kissed the pale brow, from which all 
shade of sorrow had passed quite away, and as she did so, she 
whispered, “ He giveth His beloved sleep.” At that low 
sound the dying stranger looked up once more, and answered, 
“ G-od is love ! ” then slept the sleep that gently lengthened 
into death. 

They bore her to her brother’s grave. The General, An- 
tonia, her faithful maid, and Chetwind, they laid her coffin 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 


287 


on the one where slept her brother; and on his tomb-stone 
carved her name ; her age they did not know, but they put. 
the day of her death, and underneath it her last words, — 
“ God is love ! ” Allen, the gardener at the Hall, intrusted 
to Chetwind’s care a crimson rose-tree and a white feathery 
broom to plant beside the grave. 


288 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


CHAPTEE XYIIL 

In the autumn of the previous year Laura had been with 
her parents to the sea, and when she returned the snow had 
covered all the ground, and her gardening work was done. 
She visited the Grange on the day after her return, to look 
whether her orders for matting up plants, &c., had been at- 
tended to ; and, then, having taken a sorrowful farewell of 
that year’s delight, she called at the house to see Mrs. Bar- 
rington, who invited her to stay and spend the day with her. 
Laura stayed most gladly, for she felt spiritless with the one 
charm of life buried under the snow. Mrs. Barrington had 
expected this, and she waited in hope to lead this poor child 
of earth another step onward and upward ; but she left her 
free to breathe her own feelings spontaneously. 

Mrs. Barrington was seated near a sunny southern win- 
dow, working her silk embroidery, the St. Bernard dog repos- 
ing near his mistress, and the wood-fire glowing brightly on 
the hearth. Laura sat in the window-seat, looking out with 
listless regret on the snow. 

‘ I suppose I must be miserable now until the spring 
comes back again. Not even you can tell me of any interest 
in place of the flowers I ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


289 


Mrs. Barrington was silent. 

‘ Could you ? ’ asked Laura. 

‘ I do not see that the case need be so hopeless. Could 
you not extend your acquaintance with Nature by making a 
winter study of the trees and the birds ? The winter and 
early spring are the best time for becoming familiar with both. 
Would you not like to cultivate an acquaintance with the 
trees? to know them, each one by their difference of struc- 
ture, bark, and foliage ? Solomon knew every tree, from the 
cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop on the wall, and you certainly 
ought not to be a stranger to those that grow around your 
home. And as to the wild birds, you might find in them a 
circle of friends. Their animated life could not fail to charm 
you when once you had turned your attention to them ; their 
different habits and varied notes> with the interest perpetually 
arising when your sympathies are extended to any portion of 
God’s wonderful works in creation, might beguile the winter 
and early spring, I should think, very pleasantly.* 

‘ So it might, and I like the idea, but these long winter 
evenings ! Papa reads the papers, and mamma has always 
some dull story-book, exactly like the one that came before it, 
where all the people get into scrapes for the sake of getting 
out of them, and I am tired to death with the sight of them.’ 

‘ Then, it seems you are free to follow your own devices. 
I should advise you to find some books of natural history, and 
read of an evening on the subjects that interest you in the day. 
If you get a knowledge of the trees and birds of your own 
neighbourhood you will find the winter will pass quickly away, 
13 


290 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


and leave you with fresh and permanent interest around you 
and if you want more variety you can add the stars.* 

‘ 0, no ; I always hated astronomy ! A look is all I can 
ever give the stars.’ 

‘ But that look may he an ignorant or an intelligent one. 
You would not prefer to look up in ignorance ? ’ 

‘ I hate astronomy ! those endless calculations, numbers 
without number, of which one has no more conception when 
one has learned every fraction than before one ever heard 
them reckoned up.’ 

‘ But astronomy is not a science of mere figures ; you may 
leave its figures alone if they are so entirely objectionable. Can 
you not imagine any possible interest in knowing the name of 
each star, when you look up to those spangled skies at night, 
its place in the heavens, its rising and setting ? And though 
the constellations are fanciful arrangements, yet they each 
form a naturally associated group that you find always in 
companionship. Would you have no interest in calling them 
all by their names — though those names be earthly alone — 
and watching their silent magnificent march across the sky ? 
If you think you would, you may bring your books, and use 
my celestial globe when you like, that I may be at hand to 
show you how much of wonderful interest there is without 
any necessity of recollecting numbers. Can you not think it 
possible that the stars of the heavens might in winter take 
the place of the flowers of the earth, with all their variety in 
lustre, in size, and in arrangement ? ’ 

‘ Yes, I can suppose they might, if they can be learned 




THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


291 


without any necessity of numbers, — trees, birds, and stars, 
while the flowers are asleep ! It sounds well ; they all seem 
in harmony, and if I may only have your interest while I am 
learning to know them, then I think I could persevere — even 
if the subject were a dull one ! ’ 

‘ You have my interest, my dear child, in yourself and 
therefore most surely in all your pursuits ; and I do not 
think you will find either of the subjects we have spoken of 
unattractive, when once you begin to learn from Nature her* 
self, instead of the pages of books alone.’ 

Laura found that the knowledge resulting from a per- 
sonal observation of Nature is a knowledge that carries the 
heart along with it, and so proves a ceaseless refreshment. 
With the stars, the trees, and birds, for her companions, she 
could wait on in something like patience for the flowers. 

‘ I have enough now for both winter and summer ! ’ 
Laura said, when spending a winter’s day with Mrs Barring- 
ton, and looking out in hope of a clear evening for the stars. 
‘ Have you ? ’ Mrs. Barrington asked earnestly. 

‘ Yes, have I not ? ’ 

‘ Does a love of creation, then, satisfy you, without a 
love of its beneficent Creator ? ’ 

‘ I cannot love what I do not know ! ’ 

‘ But may you not learn to know him ? Have you not 
His own revelation of Himself in His Word ? ’ 

‘ I did read the Bible sometimes this last summer, be- 
cause I knew it was the rule of your life; but I could not 
understand it, and so at last I gave it up.’ 


292 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ Did you try to find in it anything to love ? ’ 

* No, I tried to underatand ; I could not love without un- 
derstanding.’ 

‘ Could you not ? I think you could. The best way of 
understanding all true and beautiful things is by the love of 
the heart, not the investigations of the head alone. You do 
not understand the structure of the flowers, yet your love 
makes you feel that you understand them^ because they are 
so beautiful, and brighten earth to you ! ’ 

‘ But the Bible is only words ! ’ 

‘ Words it is, but not words “ only, ” for those words 
are spirit and life.” Go back to them, and ask them to speak 
to you once more, and listen whether they hare no tones 
of tenderness, such as you never heard from human lips ? no 
records of a love that can win back your heart in return ? no 
whispers of hope telling of brighter things than spring flow- 
ers ? You have a heart to love, — ^have you not ? ’ 

‘ O, can you doubt that ? ’ 

‘ No, I do not doubt ; I only want to win that heart to 
the Bible. Find out what the Bible has to show you that 
you can look on with love. God, who gave you a heart to 
love His creation, is able and willing to give you a heart to 
love Himself. The love of creation leaves you a child of 
earth ; the love of God will raise you into a child of Heaven ; 
the one fades away with tKe world to which it belongs, the 
other has its home in the skies. “The world passeth away, 
bu*: he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.” ’ 

Towards the spring of the year Mrs. North, accompanied 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


293 


by Anastasia, called one day at the Grange, when, on in- 
quiring for Mrs. Barrington, the servant said his mistress 
did not see any visitors for a few days. Mrs. North asked 
whether Mrs. Barrington were well, and receiving the as- 
surance that she was well, left her card without making any 
further inquiry. 

‘ What can it be ? ’ exclaimed Anastasia, as they drove 
away. ‘ Some bad tidings, I suppose, but the house is not 
closed ! the illness of a friend perhaps, or perhaps som# re- 
verse of fortune, for I know Mrs. Barrington has property 
independent of this estate. I suppose, mamma, you will write 
and inquire ? ’ 

‘ No, certainly not.’ 

‘ It will hardly seem friendly — ^will it ? — to take no notice.’ 

‘ Mrs. Barrington will see my card, and as she is not ill 
she can respond to it by writing, if she wishes any immediate 
communication.’ 

‘Well, really, I cannot wait so patiently when friends 
are suffering.’ 

‘ But we do not know that Mrs. Barrington is suffering, 
and it is no act of friendship to intrude upon a guarded re- 
tirement. It will be well for you, Anastasia, to be aware 
that there are times when even friends may not be wished 
for : if you thrust yourself forward at all times, you will 
never retain the friendship of the true and deep-hearted. 
Friendship commands a reverence of approach due to its sa- 
cred character.’ 

On the evening of that day, Mrs. North received the fol* 
lowing note from Mrs. Barrington,— 


294 


THE MINISTET OP LIFE. 


‘ My dear Mrs. North, 

* I felt sorry, on seeing your card, that I had delayed for 
a single day to communicate to you the cause of my tempo- 
rary seclusion. You will, I know, he glad to learn that it 
is not the retirement of sorrow, hut of j ^y. My friend, whom 
I have sometimes named to you, is on her homeward voyage 
with her husband, and about this time expected to arrive. 
The sudden tidings have unnerved me, for the chords that 
have often vibrated deeply beneath sorrow’s pressure, tremble 
hardly less intensely at the touch of joy. I feel unable to 
meet the outward world until the one overpowering feeling is 
softened into something more of calm. But whenever you 
may be able to call again, I shall not feel unequal to see you. 

‘ Yours most sincerely, 

‘ Jane Barrington.’ 

Mrs. North instantly replied to the note ; but did not 
hastily repeat her call. 

The day after the receipt of this note by his mother. 
Captain North was walking away from the Hall with Edward 
Seymour, who had been calling there, and the Captain asked, 
‘ Have you seen Mrs. Barrington lately ? ’ 

‘ I have not spoken to her for the last week ; but she was 
at church on Sunday. Why do you ask ? ’ 

‘ I thought it possible you might not have heard that 
Mrs. Barrington had declined receiving all visitors for a 
time, having just received tidings of the unexpected arrival 
Af a long absent friend.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


295 


* I am glad you told me ; I will go up there at once.’ 

‘ I will walk with you; but you will . probably have only 
to leave your card.’ 

‘0, no ! ’ replied Edward Seymour, with the firm, but 
gentle assurance of one who knew his heavenly authority 
and power, — ‘ I shall not be denied, for joy when intense 
needs the ministry of Heaven, no less than intensity of grief 
— both alike ask for calming, for sanctifying, for blessing 
' from above ! ’ 

The Captain, as he afterwards related this to Antonia, 
added, ‘ I looked at him as he spoke — so young, and yet 
so assured in the blessed commission that he bore. I felt 
as if I could have bent my knee before him there, and asked 
his pastoral benediction ; but he walked on in the same easy 
converse as before, as though the lofty tone he had breathed 
was as natural to him, in its place, as any other passing ex- 
pression. I left him at the door, for he was admitted directly, 
and when I saw him again he said nothing as to his visit, so 
of course I was silent ; but I felt how reverence was won — not 
by the office so much as by the spirit that breathes through it ! ’ 

In the course of a few days Mrs. North called again at 
the Grange. On taking a seat beside Mrs. Barrington, she » 
was struck with the expression of chastened joy that beamed 
from her countenance. Mrs. North had felt that countenance 
before intellectual, commanding, full of feeling — the shade 
of past sorrows giving depth to its light ; but now there was 
no mistaking the change in its aspect — it had kindled into 
joy! Mrs. North felt" surprised at this sudden contact with 


296 


THE MINIS! KY OF LIFE. 


a glow that her own spirit seemed no longer capable of. Her 
garland of home-delights was unbroken, not one flower had 
faded, but the chords of her spirit thrilled no longer, the 
sorrow or the joy were things of weight, the more vivid vi- 
brations were gone, and she looked with surprise as she saw 
the radiance of feeling beaming from the eyes that met hers. 
She could not ask. How is this ? but if she could so have 
asked, some angel guardian in attendance might well have 
replied, ‘ The “ Harp ” of your being, with its “ thousand 
strings,” was devoted, until of late, to the world ; the discords 
of earth have untuned and deadened it, the demands of this 
world have worn it ; but the Harp of her being, who is now 
before you, has had its long abiding place in the presence of 
the Eternal ; His hand has retuned its chords when unstrung 
or broken, and kept them so keenly responsive that influences, 
scarce perceptible to many, will wake them into fulness of 
expression. But you have now found the presence, that she 
has made her refuge through a lifetime, and if only you yield 
up your spirit entirely to the influence of that Divine pres- 
ence, you will yet know what it is to recover the lost power 
of delight ; and the tones of your spirit will be retuning here, 
^ to echo back with greater power through eternity the thrilling 
harmonies of Heaven.’ 

Mrs. Barrington told Mrs. North that she was going up 
to London to the residence of the father of her friend to meet 
her there, adding, ^ My friend says, “ Would that the first 
night I pass on shore might be the one from which I awake 
to expect your arrival ! ” I hope it may be so, for I find the 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


297 


vessel is not likely to be in for some days. And gladly could 
I go and pitch my tent upon the shore, and watch for the first 
distant speck in the horizon telling of her vessel’s near ap- 
proach.’ 

Laura, finding that Mrs. Barrington had declined receiv- 
ing visitors, refrained from entering her favourite garden, 
lest her presence there might be felt an intrusion ; but after 
Mrs. North’s received visit, a note came to Laura : — ► 

‘ My dear Laura, 

‘ I shall be as glad as ever to see you among the flowers, 
though I am unable at present to receive you within. I miss 
the sight of your form where I have long loved to see it ; so 
continue your pastime at pleasure. While I am alone at the 
Grange you never need hesitate to come when so disposed. 

‘ Yours affectionately, 

‘ Jane Barrington.’ 

So Laura was again among her flowers, where she re- 
ceived a kind farewell from Mrs. Barrington the day before 
Mrs. Barrington left for London. 

Laura worked indefatigably in Mrs. Barrington’s absence, 
with the hope of surprising, by the brightness of the garden 
on her return. Leonore had been sharing her labours one 
day, and, pleasantly tired with their gentle toil, they sat 
down together on a bench, beneath the dark pine-trees, with 
the verdant lawn and the early blossoming flowers before 
them j far away the landscape stretched in its beauty to the 
purple horizon ; and Laura and Leonore rested in the shade. 
13 ^ 


298 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


They rested there in the stillness of evening, with the birds 
in full song all around, and the gardening-man watering the 
flowers, until at length Laura said, — 

‘ I have often thought I would talk to you, Leonore ; but 
it is not easy to speak of things that once were all uncared 
for, — ^the Bible I mean, and the love that one flnds like a 
deep ocean within it, when once one has taken the plunge ! 
And, 0 Leonore, a life like mine, that was so cold and hard 
— to feel the rock within a smitten thing, and love’s deep 
waters flowing forth to Heaven and Earth — it is, it is a new 
existence ! ’ 

Leonore could understand better than she could answer ; 
but her look replied, and Laura soon spoke again : — 

‘ Antonia used to be often trying to win me from myself 
to Heaven. I always listened to her, for I felt she was all 
real ; but I thought her all too angel-like for me ever to be 
one with her ! But this winter I read the Bible in a way I 
never read it before, looking for what I could love I and with 
for a heart of love / And one day I was reading of 
Jacob at Bethel, and his vision as he slept on the stone — of 
the ladder that reached up to Heaven — and it suddenly 
struck me, how many steps there were on that ladder, and 
that even I might perhaps be taught to climb to the lowest ; 
and that then if I could only stand on the lowest step, and 
never leave it, but cling to that ladder, those ministering 
angels would find me there, and would bear me up into 
Heaven. 0 Leonore, it was the first breaking of hope, 
through the dark skies that hung over my head ! I had al- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


299 


ways loved Antonia from a distance, and sometimes I had 
wept bitter tears at the thought how soon our paths in life 
might part asunder, and what different work here, and, as I 
feared, what different worlds awaited us ! But still it never 
seemed possible even to try and be like her ; but when I saw 
how that ladder seemed to have a place also for me — a lowest 
step as well as a highest — and all on the way up to Heaven, 
then Hope broke on my heart, and it has made all things 
look new to me, it seems to have touched all things around 
me with love and with life ! And I wanted to tell you a 
secret thought that I have. Papa, you know, is so fond of 
the sea, that he is sure to go to it this autumn, and I thought 
I should most likely be able to persuade him to go where you 
went when you found Bill Briggen ; and then if Mrs. North 
would but let you go with us, we might find his poor widow, 
and see how she was getting on ; but we need not say any- 
thing yet, only I wanted to tell you that we might ask of 
God that if it pleases Him it may be ! ’ 

‘ 0 Laura, how glad I am ! how happy this evening 
makes me ! ’ 

‘ It makes me happier to have talked to you, Leonore, — 
freer and happier. And you cannot think what it would be 
in my selfish life — if my autumn hope should be fulfilled — 
to have at length the unspeakable feeling of having some 
power to make a fellow-creature happy, as I am sure it would 
make that poor widow if I could but take you to see her.’ 

‘ 0, be glad then,’ said Leonore, ' that all you have told 
me makes me so happy to-night I ’ 


300 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


And the shadows of the pine-trees fell darkly, and the 
gardener was gone to his cottage, and the nightingale had 
taken up the song of the night, and Laura and Leonore walk 
ed to their homes, each one with their separate attendant. 

Laura with a freer spirit ; she had not only believed 
with the heart,” but confessed with the lips,” and so en- 
tered into the promises, whose first breathing of blessing is 
linked with faith and obedience, reaching on into infinite and 
endless fruition. Laura returned to her home — that home 
presented a different aspect now to what it had done in past 
years, care and thought for her parents, and gentle atten- 
tions to them, were now waking up in the life that from the 
days of her spoilt childhood centered in self. But while 
sympathy and love flowed around, and began to make fertile 
the path that she trod, the path she had entered was yet at 
the same time so narrow that each one who walks therein 
must tread it alone, alone with Him to whose Heaven it 
leads ; so narrow that he who chooses to lean on any other 
helper than God, will find he had to leave that pathway to 
do so. In all lowliness of heart it must be entered, and 
Laura had entered it so, looking up and asking all firom the 
God, who is Love. She saw the bright goal at the end of 
the way ; she heard the voice of Him who said, “ Follow 
me ! ” Sometimes she stumbled and fell, but He whom she 
followed raised her up again. Sometimes the path lay in 
darkness before her, but she waited asking for light, and it 
came. She felt the sharp thorns that strew the pathway of 
life ; but He whom she followed had passed over them first 


IHE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


301 


and pressed their keenest points down before her. For her, 
the sun went down no more, for all things lived in the light 
that is eternal ; and the efforts of her heart were directed to 
shed around the influence of that love, which is Blessing I 


302 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

It was her earliest friend whose return to this country, 
after so long an absence, Mrs. Barrington was now almost 
immediately expecting. She had been the elected and chosen 
when childhood had as yet scarcely deepened into youth, that 
first early love holding unwaveringly on, blending each in- 
terest, and sorrow, and joy, with itself. Whether near or 
distant, still hastening to associate all subjects of thought, 
all tides of emotion, even all impulse of feeling, with that one 
responsive being, inseparably linked to the heart in life’s un- 
folding years. Yet other friends were not the less loved be- 
cause one held a place from the first entirely her own ; the 
large heart is but still more enlarged by the strong hold of 
a deep personal tie ; it is itself deepened and enriched by re- 
ciprocation, and has more to offer than it otherwise could 
have possessed or poured out to all those who, in their varied 
degree, might be capable of winning its love or its sympathy ; 
while towards the one whose spirit through life has been 
blended in deep and ceaseless companionship, the interwoven 
tie becomes a second consciousness. 

The painting, which has been mentioned as adorning the 
walls of the old moated Grange, pictured to the eye the form 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


303 


of that long-absent, now home-returning friend, and her radi- 
ant child. Approaching separation shaded there that moth- 
er’s face with a deep melancholy tenderness. The agonizing 
long farewell had followed, and years had rolled away. Now 
she waited for the first returning look upon her child. As 
the time and distance lessened, each moment seemed to ex- 
pand to longer duration, and the intervening space to swell to 
almost endless measurement. Once, when a little land-bird 
lighted on the ship, the mother looked at it as if she thought 
it might have crossed the pathway of her child ! 0, the 

questionings, the heart yearnings, the undefined thoughts and 
imaginings in the heart of the yet distant mother, the bright 
hopes, the trembling fear of change — less of loveliness than 
the all that memory has cherished, the faintness of the soul 
that in suspense weighs all ! The child has no such shadows 
to trouble her bright forward glance ; she has one memory of 
the past, and that one memory — Love ; — one expectation of 
the future, and that one expectation — Love ! Little knows 
or dreams the child of all that hangs abound her life’s open- 
ing years to awaken a mother’s questioning. She little rea- 
sons, nothing dreads, only longs in trembling joy for the hour 
and the moment which each day is bringing nearer. 

The child of whom we tell bore the name of her mother’s 
earliest Mend — England’s classical, and time-hallowed name 
of J ane. When her parents left her, they left her to the 
guardianship of her mother’s only brother. He occupied the 
family estate, an old castellated mansion with its park around 
it, gn the immediate outskirts of a large country-town. He 


804 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


had offered to receive his sister’s child, and to bring her up 
with his own girls under their mother’s care ; to his house 
her parents took her before leaving England. 

* Have you no wishes to express with reference to your 
child ? ’ asked the child’s guardian of her mother. 

‘ No ; my only refuge is in absolute trust ; I trust her to 
my God, and you. She has a high, wild spirit ; you will not 
break but Bend it — not bind, but win by love ; without this 
confidence I could not leave her.’ 

The poor child in the hour of parting clung around her 
mother’s neck, as if resolved not to unlock her clasping hands. 

Closely and long her mother’s arms embraced her, then 
that mother gently said, — ‘ 0 my child, there is but One who 
never parts from those who cling to Him — ^thy Saviour ! 
Thy mother gives thee to Him : turn now to Him, my child, 
and He will never leave thee.’ 

Gently as the words were breathed, so gently did the 
trembling child unlock her clasping fingers, and saw her 
mother go. But months had passed over her before her in- 
fant spirit rallied from that stroke of separation. 

The vessel was not due for some days when Mrs. Barring- 
ton left home, but she wished to spend a day or two in the 
neighbourhood where the child of her friend had been brought 
up ; it was years now since she had seen her, and she felt in- 
tensly anxious to know on what that mother’s eye was soon 
to gaze- — on what that mother’s heart was soon to rest. 

Not being intimate with the family where Jane had re- 
sided, Mrs. Barrington had not written before-hand, and pre- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


805 


ferred going to an hotel in the town to being a guest in the 
house. On calling the next morning, she found that, yielding 
to J ane’s irrepressible anxiety, her uncle and aunt had start- 
ed with her the previous day for the seaport at which the 
vessel was to arrive. Mrs. Barrington saw the lady, who 
was living as a governess in the family, and who, finding that 
Mrs. Barrington intended to remain that day at the hotel, 
pressed her to come up and spend the evening with the chil- 
dren of the family, to which Mrs. Barrington consented. 

A clergyman and his wife, residing in the town, were 
known to Mrs. Barrington, and she called on them in her 
way back to the hotel. Mrs. Barrington was the last person 
to question a comparative stranger on subjects on which in- 
formation would be, probably, little more than report. But 
the individual upon whom she now called seemed to have no 
topics at command except such as were furnished by her 
opinion of the characters and doings of the people of the 
neighbourhood. She soon asked Mrs. Barrington whether 
she knew Jane Trevenon, this inquiry was made in connec- 
tion with the subject of her parents’ return. 

‘ I knew her well as a child,’ Mrs. Barrington replied, 

‘ but it is some years now since I have seen her.’ 

Then over the face of her who had asked the question 
passed an expression in which it would have been probably 
impossible to trace any feeling of Heaven ^ — no tenderness, 
no sorrow, no compassion, was in it ; it seemed a mixture of 
indifference, almost of contempt, and of hopeless condemna* 
tion, as she said, — 


806 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ I fear her poor mother is not much to be congratulated 
on her daughter ! ’ 

‘ Indeed ! ’ said Mrs. Barrington, repressing the over- 
powering anxiety which these words awakened. 

‘ She is as wild and ungoverned a girl as I suppose you 
could possibly meet with ; reckless of what she does and what 
she says. My wonder is, that her uncle and aunt can allow 
her the liberty they do ; she may be seen out in the earliest 
morning alone, with a huge foreign dog that no one dare ap- 
proach except its keepers and herself, feeding wild horses 
and unbroken colts. I suppose they cannot keep her in, but 
I think I should if she were under my care ! ’ 

^ What ! ’ thought Mrs. Barrington as she left the house, 
‘ is all the lovely promise of that childhood lost in wild, un- 
governed recklessness ? ’ and heavily oppressed she returned 
to the hotel. There was no one to remind her of what she 
would have reminded any one except herself, that it is a day 
of hasty estimates ; careless eyes coldly glance upon the ex- 
terior, then pronounce sentence, and that sentence soon passes 
as current coin; false coinage too often, and for the loss 
incurred, and the evil produced by it, the calculator will never 
have skill to account. And Christian hearts and Christian 
homes give evidence of the fact when their estimates are as 
narrow as if light from above had never illumed their minds, 
their judgments as harsh or as cold as if love divine had never 
beamed on their souls. But no one was at hand to remind 
Mrs. Barrington of this fact, well known, but lost sight of in 
that moment of personal distress ; and she went in solitude 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


307 


to dwell upon the grief imparted by the words of one who, 
having expressed her opinion, thought no more at that time 
on the subject. 

The afternoon came, and Mrs. Barrington fulfilled her 
engagement, but with a heavy burdened heart. She had 
always kept up a correspondence with Jane, but could not 
fall back upon anything which her letters unfolded in con- 
firmation of what she had heard ; they had been short, ori- 
ginal, and rather wild, but warmly affectionate and natural ; 
she was yet but young, and Mrs. Barrington had always felt 
that writing, probably, was not with her a favourite employ- 
ment. Most gladly would she have learned to know her 
through personal intercourse, but various incidental circum- 
stances had rendered this impossible. Engrossed with the 
anxious subject, she entered the home of Jane’s youth, and 
was received by the same agreeable-looking lady as before. 

Mrs. Barrington, too anxious now to be able to repress 
inquiry, soon spoke of Jane, and was asked, in reply, — 

‘ How long is it since you have seen her ? ’ 

‘Not since her childhood; indeed only once since her 
parents left England, and that was ' immediately after my 
own return to this country.’ 

‘ 0, yes, I think I remember ; you will find hei altered 
since then, but it is hardly fair to attempt to describe her 
to one so deeply interested in her as you must be. I think 
you rather ought to wait and judge for yourself.’ 

‘ I should entirely agree with you,’ replied Mrs. Barring- 
ton, her confidence immensely deepened in the individual 


808 


THE MINISTRY OP LI PE. 


with whom she conversed; ‘ but at this moment I am ex 
tremely anxious to. hear your feeling about her.’ 

‘ Well, really, you may at least expect an impartial esti- 
mate from me, for I must say she does me no credit, op 
rather I should say, owes nothing to me. She learns in 
some way, but how I am sure I cannot tell you, for I have 
seldom been able to keep her in the schoolroom two hours at 
a time. Her uncle and aunt indulge her to the utmost; 
she has her own way in everything.’ 

‘ Has indulgence made her selfish ? ’ 

‘ Selfish ! 0 no ; it really would be impossible to tell 

you what the sweetness of her disposition is. I had a most 
trying illness not long ago, — an illness in which it was very 
difiScult to be patient myself, and for others to be patient 
with me. I may literally say she was my nurse^ and what 
her nursing was no one could attempt to tell. But it is 
not on great occasions alone ; she is the loved of all, for hers 
is the quickest eye to read every want, every wish; and 
though so untaught, hers is always the most skilful hand to 
meet every demand, whatever it may be ; and as to her light 
step, it seems everywhere, just when and where most wanted. 
I am sure, while others think they do well to receive you 
kindly in the room, she will meet you, in her eager gladness, 
before you can enter. If her aunt has only been out for a 
walk, Jane is certain almost to meet her at the threshold, 
and her voice of welcome to be the first sound that she 
hears. I ought not, perhaps, to say it, but I really believe 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


309 


her uncle and aunt would miss her more than any one of 
their own children.’ 

Mrs. Barrington could not question, — she could only 
listen ; and the true-hearted woman, warming with her sub- 
ject, went on : ‘ I daresay some would call her wild ; she is 
as free as air, says just what she feels, and does not seem to 
mind giving offence ; and yet I do not know that she ever 
does give offence, excepting to those who choose to judge 
harshly of all that they cannot understand. Her words, 
certainly, are wild and free, but they are the truest to her 
own heart, and the kindest to the hearts of others, that I 
ever heard from the lips of any age. And as to her voice, 
when she sings there is a melody in its tones, that as they 
rise and rise subdues and almost saddens you; and her 
touch in music is such that even ears untaught and unac- 
customed to judge say they can distinguish it from all others.’ 

* 0 tell me all you can ! ’ said Mrs. Barrington. 

‘ Well, I am sure, I hardly know what to tell you, unless 
I came to incidents, and they would be endless ; but one I 
may mention which has recently come to our knowledge. 
A young friend of her cousin’s has lately died; she was 
much older than Jane, but once in travelling with the fam- 
ily she and J ane shared a room at the inn ; it was only one 
night, but that night seems to have impressed her for life. 
She said they were both extremely tired, J ane quite knocked 
up ; but she saw Jane go to her portmanteau, find her Bible, 
and sit down and read in it before she would lie down to 
sleep ; and this act of heavenly devotion so impressed her 


310 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


companion that she never lost the impression, though Jane 
knows not of it. But, as I said, you must be with her 
before you can possibly understand what she is.’ 

Mrs. Barrington’s thankfulness and joy rose the brighter 
and purer for the dark shadow from which they emerged, 
and she met the young family party with her genial benig- 
nity, and her most winning smile. The eldest daughter was 
absent from home on a visit, but the younger members of 
the family seemed pleased at receiving and entertaining their 
guest. Mrs. Barrington looked upon them with an added 
interest, as the daily companions of the child of her friend. 
There was one among the family group on whom her eye 
especially rested, though she possessed not the beauty of the 
younger children, nor the ready intellect of the elder ones. 
She kept in the background, as though not expecting to be 
noticed or appealed to, but Mrs. Barrington fancied that 
she should find in _ her much both of thought and feeling. 
She would gladly have talked with the child, but no oppor- 
tunity was afibrded for anything more than a passing re- 
mark. Evidently unused to be noticed by strangers, she had 
no general readiness of conversation at command. In the 
course of the evening Mrs. Barrington was informed that the 
elder children were going on a distant excursion with some 
friends the next day, but the three younger were not to be 
of the party, and Mrs. Barrington resolved to delay her 
next day’s journey until the afternoon, and see the children 
.again in the morning. She asked permission of their gov- 
erness to be allowed to pay them another visit the next morn- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


311 


ing; when the schoolroom hours were over j and she asked 
the child, who had excited in her a feeling of interest, whether 
she would show her the gardens and old park during her 
visit, to which she gladly agreed. 

When calling the next morning, Mrs. Barrington, while 
alone with the governess, made some inquiry that evidenced 
a feeling of interest in the silent child, to which the governess 
replied, — 

‘ Yes ; she is a good quiet girl, but there is not very much 
in her. It is singular that you should have noticed her, for 
she is perhaps the only one upon whom Jane’s influence tells 
injuriously. The child is devoted to her cousin, always 
happy if she may walk with her ; they are out together for 
hours sometimes, for her mamma never has the firmness to 
deny her when she asks to go with Jane ; so that I fear she 
is in danger of acquiring all her cousin’s idleness, without 
possessing any of her cousin’s endowments.’ 

‘ Would you describe Jane as idle ? ’ asked Mrs. Barring- 
ton, anxious on so important a point to ascertain the truth. 

‘ No, certainly, I should not ; but what is not idleness in 
her would become so in most others, and will, I fear, prove 
nothing better in her little cousin. It is a curious fact, that 
that child has not one natural gift, no taste nor talent for a 
single accomplishment, to prose on is all she can do.’ 

‘ What is she in disposition ? ’ asked Mrs. Barrington. 

‘ Very affectionate ; but when once she gets wrong, it is 
very difficult, I assure you, to get her into a bright mood 
again, unless Jane comes in to the rescue, and then it is done 
in a moment.’ 


312 


V . 

THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

‘Do not rank her too low,’ said Mrs. Barrington pleas- 
antly. ‘ A heart of unselfish love may be excused the want 
of some other endowments.’ 

The child then came in ready to accompany Mrs. Bar- 
rington ; she held in her hand what looked like a very heavy 
stick. 

‘ Are you going to carry that with you ? I am afraid it 
will tire you.’ 

‘ No, thank you ; it will not tire me. There are pleasant 
^ places without seats, and if I carry this you can sit down ; 
it makes a camp-stool when opened, and I can sit upon the 
ground : I often do.’ 

So they went together. The child felt the secret link 
that another’s interest can sometimes bind even on the 
youngest heart, and she did her best to make the walk agree- 
able. Mrs. Barrington longed to hear her speak of Jane, 
and rather expected her to do so, but the child made no allu- 
sion to her cousin. 

At length, seated in a wild retired part of the park, where 
all the world seemed at a forgotten distance, a lake where the 
water-lilies floated before them, a mossy bank where the child 
sat by the camp-stool she had brought for Mrs. Barrington, 
and the whispering leaves around them, Mrs. Barrington 
asked, — 

‘ Do you love your cousin ? ’ 

The child looked up, then words were little needed, but 
they were given. The tenderness of the questioner’s soul 
had made itself felt, and that young heart knew what it was 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


313 


to trust. She replied, * 0 yes ; things that love nothing else 
love her ; all must love her ! ’ 

‘ Will you tell me all about her while we sit resting 
here ? ’ 

‘ No one could tell you aZ?,’ replied the child with an ex- 
actitude of truth, and an expression on her young face, that 
seemed to say, Jane was to her a world, whose measure and 
whose span she had not taken yet ; but she added, ‘ I can 
tell you a great deal.’ 

[ Tell me all you can,’ said Mrs. Barrington. 

^ I daresay you would like to hear about our morning 
walks, because they are so beautiful. We get up while the 
dew is on the flowers, and the morning air is blowing fresh, 
and while the birds are singing, and all the town asleep ; we 
go quite away from the town to the river side, and to the 
fields, and all over our old park. Lion, a great dog, goes 
with us ; he is so fierce that he can only go out before the 
people are about, and no one except Jane, or his keepers, can 
take him out. I am terribly afraid of him. Sometimes 
when I am separated from Jane he comes rushing at me, but 
I call to her and she calls him ; and the moment that he 
hears her voice, he tossis his great mane and turns away and 
bounds to her. Once he went so fast that when he sprang 
up in his play he knocked her down, and she lay senseless on 
the ground a little while, and all the time he would not 
move, but stood over her, looking down upon her face, and 
when she opened her eyes she saw his great red glaring eyes 
close to hers ; and when she moved a little and got up, he 
14 


314 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


leapt about like a wild thing for joy, and after that he never 
sprang upon her in the same way again.’ 

‘ How is it that you get separated from Jane ? ’ 

* 0, because she feeds the creatures where we go ; she 
springs across the little streams, or walks over the stones, 
and over the banks where I could not even try to go, and the 
wild horses are so fond of her — ^young colts that are there 
come when they see her, and eat from her hand. She has a 
bird, and when she lets it fly it never will alight anywhere 
Dut on her head — never on any tree, only upon her head. 
She tames all wild things into love.’ 

‘ How is it she can tame them so ? ’ 

‘ I don’t know, only she loves them all, and trusts them. 
She seems to have no fear of any living thing ; and I do not 
know, but it seems to me they feel her love, and feel her 
trust. I am sure I do. When I make a mistake, or do a 
thing wrong, she always puts me right, and never laughs at 
me ; when I get into trouble, she never seems to think that 
I meant to do wrong, and she always flnds out a way to get 
me into happiness again ; she tells me long tales, such long 
stories, they last on each one for weeks ; and when we are 
alone she sings to me.’ 

‘ What does she sing to you ? ’ 

‘ A great many things. There is one song she often sings 
that begins, “ She never blamed him — never.” But I think 
the- one she loves the best is a hymn; when she sings it, her 
voice ascends so high it seems almost as if it must be heard 



THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 315 

above tbe sky. I know it is her favourite of all : I can say 
it if you like. 

‘ “ How vain are all things here below, 

How false and yet how fair ! 

Each pleasure hath its poison too, 

And every sweet a snare. 

The brightest things below the sky 
Give but a flattering light ; 

We should suspect some danger nigh 
Where we possess delight. 

Dear Saviour, let Thy beauties be 
My soul’s eternal food, 

And grace command my heart away 
From all created good.” ’ 

‘ Do you walk only in tbe early morning ? ’ 

* No ; we often go out later in the day.’ 

‘ And where do you go then ? ’ 

The child looked down in silence ; over her face passed 
shadows of thoughtful recollection. Mrs. Barrington saw 
that her thoughts were treading the secret sanctuary of hal- 
lowed places. 

‘ J ane never talks of it,’ at length she said, ‘ hut she never 
told me not to tell ; I think she trusts me, and I do not mind 
telling you. .We go among the poor; we go to the worst 
places, where the poor lie dying ; only a little bed, a wretched 
bed, and nothing more. 0, how glad they are to see her, 
and she kneels down and prays for them to God, and sits and 
reads to them ; and I go with her. And she speaks to the 
beggarmen, and is not afraid of them, and they all listen and 
look as if they liked to hear ; but when we go among the 


316 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Jews, sometimes I am frightened then, and beg her to go 
away, but she only smiles.’ 

‘ What is it frightens you ? ’ 

‘ 0, when we go to the Kabbi’s house, and sit in his little 
back-parlour, and such dark-looking angry Jews stand round 
her, and she sits in the midst with her Bible, and looks up 
to them, and talks with them as if she could not be afraid. 
Sometimes they get so angry, and talk so loud, that I am 
terrified; but she keeps gentle still, and then they get 
quieter again, and I am less afraid, but I do dread going 
there, only I like to go wherever Jane goes.’ 

Mrs. Barrington could ask no more ; but when in after- 
life she saw this young child raised to bring a ceaseless influ- 
ence of blessing to bear upon her Country’s poor, she and she 
alone, could trace back the expanding streamlet to its first 
earthly source, — the free, true, trusting soul of Jane. 

The next day Mrs. Barrington completed her journey to 
London, and drove at once to make inquiries at the residence 
where her friend was expected. Her friend had arrived. 
A maid quickly appeared, saying, ‘ My mistress is expecting 
you, ma’am.’ Mrs. Barrington followed her upstairs. A door 
was opened, and a form within, unchanged in its dignified 
beauty, turned a look as of listening expectation. At the 
sight of the one who entered, the colour fled from her cheek, 
a faint exclamation passed her lips, but the door closed, and 
the friends separated for so long met again under the eye of 
Heaven alone 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


817 


CHAPTEE XX. 

It was with ceaseless delight that Mrs. Barrington looked 
on the child of her friend. She would have been at no loss 
to understand the young character now open before her, had 
she not heard the testimony of others ; but that testimony, 
being what it was, could not fail to give a deeper charm to 
all that she saw. In the bloom and the beauty of youth, 
her sympathies of soul ever ready as if waiting to turn to 
all that appealed to them, full of life’s expanding power, and 
blending with all her wild freedom a hush of silent expec- 
tation, that in some of Earth’s children seems an instinct of 
the deep solemnities of Time unfolding before us as the 
shadowy type of Eternity ; such was Jane when her mother 
and her mother’s friend met her again. 

It is not possible to give a lengthened detail of this first 
season spent by Jane in London. Original, unfettered, and 
almost wild to the careless observer’s eye, her whole life was 
yet entirely governed by the truth and love of her heart, and 
the native power of her mind. None could pass her by un- 
observed, most watched her with interest, many with love ; 
but she courted no attention, she dashed back again all flat- 
tery, and though she seemed to steer almost recklessly on 


318 


THE MINISTRY 0 E LIFE. 


yet she never stranded on evil, folly, or untruth — never 
pained the true-hearted, never wounded the sorrowful. True 
to Heaven, and true to Earth, her kindness was genuine, and 
tier bright course held safely on. 

Jane spent the season with her parents at the residence 
Df her paternal grandsire, whose married daughter, with her 
husband and family, resided with him. Jane’s London cou- 
sins formed an enthusiastic attachment to her, but it was a 
love very different jfrom the love of the young cousin she had 
left far away — the silent child who never told her love unless 
her eyes revealed it, never breathed a word of admiration — 
only was always happy at her side, and always comforted by 
her in sorrow. Never had Jane once checked that silent 
child — ^never spoken one word to her that the most sensitive 
of memories could think upon with pain ; Jane’s free tone 
was strengthening, and, whenever things went wrong, it only 
changed, for that young child, to encouragement or tender- 
ness. But her London cousins met a rougher handling, 
which, if resented by them for the moment, was soon forgot- 
ten again in the ceaseless sunshine of J ane’s bright spirit. 

There was one in the home Jane had entered, who had 
been too little remembered in the midst of its gay, active 
life — the aged grandsire. It was true, he had his easy arm- 
chair in each apartment, he had his valet in constant attend- 
ance, and he was never put out of his way. But there he 
sat, in the partial deafness and weakness of age, left out of 
the question by the young family around him. There was 
cheerful conversation, and planning of pleasure, but all was 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 319 

a confused murmur to him ; he looked on the coming and 
going, hut he knew not from whence or whither. His aid 
and his permission were necessary no longer, and the seljish 
^eart forgets what it is not made to feel the want of. But 
blessing came for the grandsire with the light step of Jane. 
Her gentlest attentions were always tendered to him with the 
sweet reverence that the noblest youth always renders to age. 
There was no impatient look on her face at his questionings 
— ^no half-scream to his deafness, no attempt to escape from 
his imperfect apprehension of facts ; the clear tones of her 
voice stole like music into his heart, and when he failed to 
understand all the bearings of the subject, he smiled respon- 
sively to her smile, and seemed satisfied because she knew 
and had tried to tell him. From the day that Jane entered 
the home, the aged grandsire was no longer passed over as a 
being forgotten. 

The contrast did not please her cousins, and one of them, 
flinging impatiently away, exclaimed one day — 

‘ What’s the use of always bothering grandpapa ? ’ 

‘ Let truth speak,’ replied J ane, with her changeless 
brightness, ‘ and then you will ask a very different question. 
I will write a satire, if you do not take care, one of these 
days, and put you all into the Temple of Truth ! ’ 

Jane would often take her book and read to herself near 
her grandfather’s chair, and he would sit silently happy, quite 
satisfied in the sense of her gentle companionship ; and she 
would look up, and give him sometimes a thought or a fact 
from the printed page, which he would be pleased to listen to, 


320 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


and then leave him awhile in repose. By degrees, a light of 
wakeful interest beamed on his face again, and when anything 
was passing which he did not understand, he would look 
round for Jane, as though he felt that she was the one link 
between himself and the living world around. Happy moth- 
er of such a child ! Blessed child, wherever thy lot may 
be! 

Jane’s London cousins were strangers to the claims of 
Earth upon the ministry of every human heart ; they can 
hold no place of bright illustration ; but one among them may 
be noticed because her character was in some points a coun- 
terfeit of Jane’s, and the counterfeit is too often classed with 
the pure gold. 

Rosetta was some years older than Jane, and in posses- 
sion of all that a circle of the most fashionable society could 
offer her. It is not, however, her pursuits, but her character 
that we have to question. Rosetta lived in a world of imagi- 
nation, untested by heavenly truth, unregulated by heavenly 
wisdom, ungoverned by heavenly love. The consequence 
was that she lived in a world of great shadows. At one in- 
terview you heard of a perfect hero ; at the next you inquired 
with a feeling of interest, and found he had passed into the 
shade — was now a mere ordinary being or something less — 
and another giant stood up in his place. Her warmest friend- 
ships were not exempted from a transient duration. She had 
friends to-day who were first-rate, you heard of them in every 
letter and at every interview ; but a few years passed, and 
they had retired into the back-ground — ^in disgrace ? 0 no ! 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


321 


forgotten ? 0 no ! but not necessary in the intercourse of 

life any longer. The crown that once betokened their pre- 
eminence now gleamed for a time upon some more recently 
favoured. Over imaginary tales Rosetta sat in hopeless ab- 
straction, in smiles and tears, as the case might require ; but 
because the sorro\YS and joys of real life did not present on 
their surface all the hidden relations that the pen of the novel- 
ist brings to outward demonstration, they were, for the most, 
unrecognised ; when the substance of grief or of joy presented 
itself, it could win neither the tear nor the smile that had 
flowed for the shadow. And so, giving her sympathies to 
shadows, her life itself became a shadow, filled to excess, it 
seemed, with endless interests and pursuits ; but it held com- 
paratively few that did not disappear when they had their 
little day, like a bubble in the air. 

Jane’s mother, talking earnestly once to Rosetta, said, — 

‘ You will find some day that one of two things alone can 
make life real to you — pure Religion, or Sorrow ; light from 
Heaven, or some withering blast of adversity — the light of 
truth and the day of evil are the two touchstones of Earth.’ 

But Rosetta^-diked her world as it was, and lives in the 
midst of it still — still deceived by the mirage of to-day, un- 
til, as life grows old, and the imagination’s untested shaping 
and colouring grow dim, she must find herself in a dreary 
arena of space with no romance-heroes around her — no fas- 
cination in friends of to-day, no hope for any brighter dream 
of to-morrow ; awaiting, in a heavy monotony, the near or 
distant appearance on life’s stage of that one stern reality — • 
Death I 14* 


822 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

Jane had come to London with the eager longing of Eng 
land’s loyal heart to see her country’s Queen. Mrs. Barring- 
ton heard the repeated wish ; it was the Easter recess, and 
she said, ‘ It shall be granted ; we will go to Windsor, where 
we may see at least, perhaps, her shadow passing by I * 

Jane was ready in the early morning’s golden prime, with 
its spring-tide burst of light, and life, and song. The post- 
horses were at the door by seven o’clock, and soon Jane and 
her guardian friend had left the streets of the great city be- 
hind ; and as Nature opened once more before them, and 
then closed around them, Jane’s spirit rose in all the fresh- 
ness of delighted exhilaration. 

On reaching Windsor they breakfasted, then walked up 
to the Castle. Jane was hushed to silence with thrilling 
feeling. At the gates a little crowd was gathered, expecting 
the royal carriage. 

‘ I shall touch my hat when the Queen comes,’ said a lit- 
tle boy before them. 

‘ I should think you will take your hat off! ’ said Jane. 

The child turned and looked up. Then came the pranc- 
ing horses, but the sovereign’s face was turned away. The 
little boy raised both his hands, and lifting his round hat 
from off his fair Saxon curls, stood looking after England’s 
monarch as if his reverence had been deepened for a lifetime. 

Mrs. Barrington then ordered fresh horses, and they drove 
through the magnificent park. The buds of half its trees 
were gleaming in silvery lustre against the azure of that east- 
ern sky. Mrs. Barrington said but little ; she felt that the 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


323 


young spirit at her side held a thrilling communion with all 
things around her, and to have been the one to lead her 
through such scenes of past and present association, was in- 
terest enough. 

At Runnymede they stopped. Jane looked intently on the 
spot lost in the gathering memories of the past. Imagination 
pictured the scene when England’s stalwart barons encamp- 
ed on that long strip of grass-covered land, wrung fr7m their 
king’s reluctant hand the charter of England’s freedom. Not 
Marathon ^itself could have more entranced the English eye 
that now first looked on Runnymede, for Grrecian liberties 
had faded all away — ^her struggles were in vain. True free- 
dom had no shrine on Lacedmmon’s plains or the Athenian 
citadel, but England’s pulse of liberty was beating still — ^for 
England’s laws, and England’s throne, owned the supremacy 
of that enduring Word that alone can make “ free indeed.” 

‘ Let us tread the ground,’ said Jane ; Ho me it seems as 
if England’s tented barons still were here, instead of only this 
spring-tide air wooing the flowers from its sod. Do let us 
tread the ground.’ 

They left the carriage, and walked a little while in silence 
there ; then returning soon, saw again the palace towers be- 
fore them. Jane did not like to pass the palace by, so the 
carriage was sent on, and they walked awhile upon the ter- 
race. Then it was Jane saw the Queen. 

‘ I can go now,’ she said ; ‘ I want nothing more except 
the earth and sky as we drive home to-day.’ 

A few weeks passed and J ane stood before the throne. 


324 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


‘ A signal for the heart to beat less free are all imperial pre» 
ences.’ One look she raised to the calm brow that wore the 
diadem of rule extended as the earth’s circumference, then 
pressed a trembling, fervent kiss upon the sceptred hand, 
passed, and was gone from thought and sense of all beside. 

J ane would not live without the poor ! In the daily drives 
she looked on every side, but saw them not : more than once 
she had stolen out alone to find them, but baffled and bewil- 
dered, she had returned in disappointment. The deep things 
of her heart were seldom on her lips — one reason, why a sur- 
face glance could seldom read her truly ; but at length, when 
with her mother and Mrs. Barrington she exclaimed, ‘ Where 
ARE the poor ? ’ 

‘ You shall see the poor,’ Mrs. Barrington replied, ‘ when 
you come to my old ivied Grange.’ 

‘ But the poor are here,’ replied Jane, ^ and I will not 
live in splendour without them \ ’ 

An incident occurring at that moment put an end to the 
conversation. Mrs. Barrington felt anxious, for she read 
some final determination in Jane’s tone. She did not ques- 
tion it, but secretly resolved without delay to meet and guard 
it. It was well she did, for J ane, disappointed in her appeal, 
had determined to search them out alone the next day, and 
not to return until she found them ; and her settled purposes 
were not easily baffled. 

Mrs. Barrington had an intimate friend in one of the aris- 
tocracy, whose life was a blessing to the poor ; to him she ap- 
plied, and he promised to call the next morning, and taka 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


325 


Jane to some of the houses of the poor. Mrs. Barrington 
added the caution, ‘ My young friend is one who wears a 
light-hearted exterior, but into whom all things sink deeply.’ 

‘ So much the better,’ was the reply ; ‘ there are too many 
into whom the sense of fellow-suffering sinks not at all, if 
some did not yield a degree of compensation, the earth must 
be swept from creation for the sin of insensibility. You 
must look upon all intensity of feeling as a salt, helping to 
preserve this corruptible Earth ; but I am glad of your hint, 
and will be careful.’ 

The little brougham was early at the door the next day ; 
Jane welcomed the invitation, and lightly rolled away the 
wheels that had borne rescue to thousands. As they con- 
versed together, Jane said, — 

‘ We seem to live here as if the poor were not in the same 
world with us.’ 

‘ Alas ! alas ! ’ her guide replied, ‘ we have lived so too 
long, but we are waking up now to the question asked nearly 
two thousand years ago, “ Who is my neighbour ? ” waking 
up to see that neighbour perishing ! but here we are at their 
dwellings; and, taking her from the carriage, they entered 
an alley, and Jane looked upon the poor — ^wretched, gloomy, 
and filthy, squatted down on the door-steps of miserable 
houses that rose high above them, leaning out from the win- 
dows with fstces unsoftened by one gleam of feeling, — men 
lounging in idleness, with glances that boded only evil ; chil- 
dren in rags, their young life being poisoned and blighted 


326 


THE MINIS TUY OF LIFE. 


beneath their baneful inheritance of crime, when it might 
have been budding and blooming in beauty and fragrance. 

Jane shuddered, and for a moment stood appalled, and 
trembled on the arm that supported her. ‘ Oh, what chil- 
dren of misery ! ’ she faintly exclaimed ; and then with the 
free native instinct of her heart left the arm that had guided 
her, and turned alone to a door-step, whera-a woman sat 
weeping. Her guide turned to another group, and when he 
looked round again for Jane the woman’s wailing had ceased, 
her face was raised to the one that bent over her ; he caught 
not the words, but they seemed to make impression on the 
listener, and not on her alone, the presence of human sympa- 
thy was felt amongst the human beings there bound in the 
lowest depths of misery ; a softened gaze had stolen over the 
louring eyes around ; their gloom was perceptibly lightened. 
Jane’s guide now waited in readiness to go. 0, did not then 
some angel of mercy, hovering near them unseen, say, in 
tones not yet audible to earth, ‘ 0, child of heaven, pass not 
so quickly away ! Far hidden in these dwellings of misery, 
at this moment, there beats faintly one young broken heart. 
Could you but come to her, your voice would breathe bless- 
ing on the dying ; she remembers well the tones of Divine 
truth and love. Could you but find her, it might be the 
opening of the prison to one that is bound. She was born 
far away, where the depths of the wild woods embosomed her 
home ; where she woke at the carol of the birds, and sang 
her holy hymns in response ; where the murmuring bee gath- 
ered honey from the thyme, and the primrose and violet 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


327 


jewelled the glades ; where Sabbath after Sabbath her young 
step dashed the dew-drop as she hastened with her Bible to 
the distant Sunday-school, conning aloud the record of love, 
to which angels stooped to listen as she hastened along. But 
now, in the hidden recesses of this wilderness of woe, she is 
fading away; she does not write to her mother; she thinks 
it would break her mother’s heart to know all, and she would 
rather die uncared for than do that. You, could you reach 
her, might write on Earth’s latest memory the record of 
human compassion, and illumine its last ray with a sunbeam 
from Heaven ! ’ But no ; our ears hear not yet the whispers 
of angels. She who to the utmost would have met the de- 
mand passed in unconsciousness away ; but her influence lin- 
gered when her footstep was gone, and dark hearts around 
were left better disposed to whatever heavenly appeal might 
next follow. 

From that hour J ane gave her heart to those children of 
misery. She would devote her time and thoughts to them, 
and seek to interest others for them. She would sit at her 
grandsire’s knee, telling him of those children of misery, until 
the tear rolled down his cheek at the pathos of her words, and 
his purse was at his grandchild’s disposal ; but personal self- 
denial kept Jane always rich for the poor. And all the 
splendour that attends on the circles of wealth was attempered 
to Jane by the ceaseless remembrance of the dark haunts of 
misery and crime. 

That dying daughter of sorrow — whom Jane might not 
reach — ^had she any comforter? No footsteps of friendship 


328 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


drew near her. Her childhood’s pastor had her in his heart 
the time was not distant when he would trace her sad steps 
through those dark regions of crime, where rufl|an lips would 
be constrained by the sudden surprise of a strange emotion 
to give evidence to him — standing alone, with his pastoral 
staff, fearless before them : guided from one to another, he 
will at length hear of her wrongs, her sorrows, her tears, but 
over her the grave had closed before the pastor drew near. 
No voice of earthly tenderness again fell on her ear, no hand 
of affection laid her dying head on its pillow, — ^but we grieve 
not for her. No crime stands recorded in her pathway of 
sorrow ; she had been early trained in the way she should 
go ; we trust she is gone where “ the wicked cease from 
troubling, and the weary are at rest.” Nor need we believe 
her dying moments unsoothed. It may have been, that when 
the stupor of death steeped her miseries in slumber, she heard 
sounds celestial, and thought them the songs of the wild 
birds that built their nests near her distant cottage home. 
It may have been, in the faintness of death, that she felt the 
waving of angel pinions, and thought it the breeze bending 
boughs of the forest-trees near her home; heard, it might be, 
the one human voice that alone can utter, “ Come unto me, 
and I will give you rest; ” turned to it, as though it were 
her mother’s, and in that moment departed to find it His 
who has said, “ As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I 
comfort you.” Not for her do we grieve, but for those whom 
no man has taught, and who therefore know not the things 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


829 


that belong unto their peace ; for those who perish, and no 
man regardeth it. 

We turn for a moment from topics that relate directly to 
the ministry of life to follow Jane on one occasion, which 
awoke all the vivid feelings of her soul. 

It was the Sunday of the Holy Trinity, and Mrs. Bar- 
rington proposed to take Jane for the morning service to 
Westminster Abbey. Jane was in heart the child of Eng- 
land’s Church, with no superstition, but a love devoted and 
true. They entered through the cloisters and nave to the 
choir ; the Sabbath stillness shut them into the hush of devo- 
tional feeling. The pillars and pointed arches in every 
direction bearing traces of the long lapse of time, the cloudi- 
ness of the day increased the solemn shade of the edifice 
within, while at intervals a vivid sunbeam broke through 
the clouds, and lighted up the exquisite temple of art with 
the radiance of nature, all the white vestments gleamed like 
snow in contrast to the dark stone around, and on ancient 
pillar and arch the colours of the rainbow were thrown by 
the sunbeam as it streamed through the painted windows 
above. Jane felt how around that small circle of worship- 
ping life the mighty dead lay, sleeping the long sleep of 
ages,— the sleep from which there can be no awaking until 
all burst their tombs and arise, when the peal of the arch- 
angel’s trumpet rolls along the vast aisles to summon the dead, 
and the Abbey walls crumble and fall, and the heavens lie 
open to the first glance of those who rise. But now they 
all lay silent around — ^princes, potentates, and powers of 


330 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


the earth ; the mighty in kingly rule or in intellect, the 
greatly beloved, the early wronged, all sleeping side by side, — 
no voice, nor any to answer, until the last moment of time 
stays its course above their tombs, and the all-vivifying life 
of eternity flows in. 

It was the 30th day of May, and the choristers chanted 
— “ 0 put not your trust in princes, nor in any child of man, 
for there is no help in them.” Nowhere could the whole of 
the psalms for that morning have been listened to with greater 
effect ; the contrast so vividly drawn in them between the 
creature and the Creator — as the refuge and hope of the 
soul ! Man in his nothingness — Grod in His almightiness ; 
man in his momentary duration in time — God in His un- 
changing eternity ; man in his absolute want — God in all- 
sufficiency and riches of compassion and grace. Truth was 
re-written on the soul in its freshness, and the impression of 
human vanity left mournfully solemn. Then followed the 
lesson for the day — the first chapter of Genesis — where could 
it have been heard more effectively than there ? in the midst 
of one of the stateliest edifices graven by art and man’s 
device, reared with consummate skill, and the mental and 
manual labour of ages, there to hear of Him who formed the 
earth out of nothing, who spake the word and it was done, 
who commanded, and it stood fast ? The second lesson for 
the day. Matt, iii., was not less impressive — aU combined to 
stamp nothingness on man, — “ I say unto you, that God is 
able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham ; ” 
then the Divine Will choosing out the one Divine Man, and 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


331 


declaring of Him and Him alone, “ This is my beloved Son, 
in whom I am well pleased.” And the moment that the 
Church had named her Redeemer, she rose in fellowship 
with Him ! — ^the solitary Reader had no sooner breathed the 
words — “ This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well 
pleased,” than the choral hymn of joyful adoration pealed 
from pillar to pillar — Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, 
for He hath visited and redeemed His people ! ” But it did 
not end there ; it took man by the hand, man — whom all that 
went before had laid low in the dust — it called him out to 
stand before Heaven and Earth, not in any character of 
earthly dignity or greatness, but in the one indispensable 
disposition of those “ called of God ” — ‘‘ Thou, Child, shalt 
be called the Prophet of the Highest, for thou shalt go before 
the face of the Lord to prepare His ways.” 

Soon after Trinity Sunday Mrs. Barrington left London 
to spend some weeks on a distant estate, and then to return 
to the Grange, with the hope of welcoming Jane and her 
parents in the autumn. 

In June, Jane was to leave London with her parents to 
visit her mother’s sister, whose home was a village Rectory. 
Jane was sorry to go. It was not the splendour, nor the 
wonders, nor the interest of London itself, that she sighed 
for ; it was because her grandsire would want her, and those 
children of misery would miss her from among them. But 
Earth’s children of blessing leave brightness behind them. 
Jane’s London cousins were not all alike selfish ; some among 
them had become so from training and natural thought- 


332 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


lessness, but now that an unselfish heart had lived among 
them, they saw what it was in itself, and what it was in its 
work, and they would try to be like it : the aged grandfather 
would never be left neglected and unthought of as before. 
Happy the spirit whose bright example can infiuence, and 
happy the spirit that can yield to it I 

But those children of misery — Jane could only leave 
them to Heaven ! No one around her could fill her place 
with them, no one was willing to venture to make the at- 
tempt ; but Heaven can bring its sons from far, its daughters 
from the ends of the earth. Already in the distance another 
was coming : she was coming from the gardens and glades of 
her home, a mansion where trophies from the Spanish Ar- 
mada hung their dark drapery round the dim distances of 
the dining-hall, whose centre was a galaxy of brilliant light 
and life ; she was coming to tread alone the haunts of misery 
and crime, in years hardly older than Jane, and though not 
in nature fearless like her, yet equally intrepid when the 
miseries of humanity called for her aid. She was coining to 
labour there for years, in the power of love, in the patience 
of hope, in the might of gentleness. To awaken, and retain ^ 
to the end of her mission, the softened, kindly glances of 
faces that to a stranger would have seemed incapable of one 
gentle expression. To gather the destitute children, and, 
aided by others, to clothe and feed and teach them ; to follow 
them when absent, and win them back again ; to prove to the 
world that there is no breastplate so sheltering as faith, no 
weapon so resistless as love. And many more, beside her, 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


333 


were already looking up to Heaven, wko soon would look 
down again in blessing upon Earth — reflecting the light they 
had caught from above, breathing the life they had received 
from the skies. 






334 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE* 


CHAPTER XXI. 

In his work of blessing, Edward Seymour had his discour- 
agements, and his times of deep depression — incident to every 
mind working for the highest ends, and sensitive to every in- 
fluence that is capable of acting on the spirit. He was wise 
enough at these times to seek friendly companionship, not 
because he realised beforehand its power to relieve, but be- 
cause he knew that the necessity of the moment demanded a 
turning away from the temporary gloom of his own spirit, to 
the clearer light in which others might be living and acting. 
This effort made, he seldom failed to find his spirit strength- 
ened to sustain its burden, and the aspect of all things less 
gloomy when he turned to them again. But there were 
times when even this power was wanting ; when the utmost 
he could do was to look to some friendly heart to bear the 
burden with him. It was in this oppressed state of feeling 
that, on one of the early summer days of which we have 
already spoken, he walked to the Hall, but not finding the 
family at home, he was returning spiritless to his lonely 
dwelling, when he met the Captain on horseback. Captain 
North immediately observed the pastor’s look of depression ; 
his anxiety to know the cause, and to relieve or share the 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 335 

feeling, was as instantly called forth; he dismounted from 
his horse, and putting his arm into that of Edward Sey- 
mour’s, asked with interest, ‘ How have you been wearying 
yourself to-day ? What new cares ? ’ 

‘ 0, as to work,’ replied the pastor, ‘ I have nothing to 
show I I wandered down now to solace myself with an hour 
in your home, but I was disappointed, for the house was de- 
serted.’ 

‘ Well, here am I,’ said the Captain, ‘ to make the best 
family representative I can ; and now the best thing for you 
will be to mount my horse, and take a gallop over the hills ; 
by that time you will find me at home.’ 

When Captain North started that morning, it had been 
with the intention of riding some distance to transact a mat- 
ter of business ; but he was one among the few who can feel 
how pressing is the claim of an overburdened heart ! Many 
there are who, themselves knowing little of the weight of de- 
pression, turn away hastily, with want of power to compre- 
hend its effect upon others. And too many there are who 
would banish from sight and thought the aspect that tells 
of a burdened spirit, and court the presence of that which offers 
a passing entertainment. Having no fountain of light within, 
they have none to shed on the darkened, but are compelled 
to kindle their sparks of mirth from external incentives. 

Captain North had instantly weighed and decided the rel- 
ative importance of the rival claims before him.(^And there 
are many who, doubtless, would act unselfishly if they had 
ever acquired the habit of considering -the feelings and wants 


336 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


of others ; but, pre-occupied exclusively with their own plans 
and purposes, they witness the want or suffering of spirit, 
which God has permitted to pass before them, and not duly 
estimating it, pass on, with an expression of regret ; hasten- 
ing to some claim, perhaps, that would not have suffered by 
delay, leaving the oppressed spirit to sink lower beneath its 
wearying weight alone. Will they not one day discover how 
often they have lost the blessing of obeying the divine pre- 
cept, “ Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law 
of Christ ! ” Many can make kind arrangements when they 
fall in with their own plans ; but few, comparatively, can 
make their plans fall in with the constant thought for others : 
this, we know, can be only habitually attained by those in 
whose hearts the law of sympathy is kept uppermost. 

The steed bounded lightly over the summer hills ; the 
air, heavy to the walker below, blew fresh on the high 
ground above. The evident sympathy manifested in the 
manner and deed of his friend, together with the breeze of 
the hills, aided in relieving an overwrought mind, and 
Edward Seymour entered his friend’s study with a fresher 
aspect : but still the burden was upon him, though less op- 
pressive than before ; he could not that day leave it on the 
hills, or commit it to the wings of the wind ; it would yield 
itself to nothing less than the heart of “ a Friend ” — who 
“ loveth at all times.” 

* 0 North, I feel as if my whole parish would be hung 
around my neck like a millstone, and sink me some day in 
unfathomable depths ! ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


337 


‘ Well,’ replied the Captain, ‘ there once was a man who 
went mad because he gave himself up, without change of sub- 
ject, exclusiveljr to the study of insects ! If you lose your 
rational faculties, you will at least have more reason to show 
for it, seeing your one subject in life is immortal and eternal ! ’ 
‘ But what can I do ? Must I not at least aim to tread 
in the steps of the Apostles, who laboured “ in season and 
out of season,” and exhorted their followers to the same ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; but you must not overlook the fact, that He who 
knoweth whereof we are made, and graciously gives us end- 
less variety to relieve and balance the ceaseless demand on 
our faculties, withheld it not from the first ministers of His 
Kingdom. Think of their constant travels; no missionary 
wanderings can equal them ; their natural powers were in- 
cessantly refreshed by new scenes continually opening before 
them — from the Athenian ^ Acropolis, to the desert island of 
Malta — we are so constituted, that to many of our faculties 
change afibrds rest. Think, again, of how they went from 
one nation to another, the constant variety of individuals, of 
customs, of character, and even of religions, presented before 
them ; the fact of continually changing the language they 
spoke in was of itself an essential variety. See St. Paul 
labouring day after day as a tent-maker, his hands minister- 
ed to his necessities and to those that were with him ; that 
he “ might not be burdensome to any,” was his own motive, 
but who can say that it was not permitted by God, who 
works by means, as a temporary change and repose to His 
Apostle ! You, on the contrary, are fixed in one limited dis- 
15 


338 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


trict, where the same scenes, people, and facts lie continually 
before you ; if you are continually labouring in the same line 
of thought and effort, you will strain your own mind, and 
probably overdo your work, not leaving it enough to “ spring 
and grow thou knowest not how ! If you watch each plant 
too intently, you will not see them grow, you will only over- 
strain and cloud your own vision. Milton’s Archangel would 
say to you, as he did to Adam, — 

‘ “ But I perceive thy sight to fail. Objects divine 
Must needs impair and weary human sense.” ’ 

‘ But what can I do ? ’ 

^ You must have wisdom to use the infinite variety of 
material which Wisdom Divine has provided for you, by 
turning your mind to different subjects of thought. Instead 
of straining on at things above your wearied powers, you 
must let them rest awhile on things below them. Let your 
tired spirit float reposingly down the tide of song : you have 
the poets of your own and other lands ; ascend the stream of 
Milton’s majestic flow of thought and diction ; or take down 
a historian, not one of to-day, professing to give you concen- 
trated essences from all sides, but one whose every feeling is 
launched in his own cause. You will find a human compan- 
ionship there, and, whether you agree or differ, the good 
effect on you will be the same. Be assured your mind con- 
centrates itself too entirely on its subject, and is not tough 
enoilgh in its texture to bear long tension on any one point. 
You must give it variety, or you will most certainly weaken 
its power.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. S39 

‘We are in a terrible scrape now,’ said the Captain, 
coming in hurriedly to the luncheon-table. ‘ I have ordered 
them to bring my horse round ; just give me something first, 
for I am famishing. 

‘ But what’s the scrape, Harry ? ’ 

‘ Oh I that creature of no opportunity ! I hope — I am 
sure — he is the last of the race.’ ' 

‘ Mr. Beltimore ? what has he been doing ? ’ 

‘ Well, I cannot stay to tell you fairly now, and he is but 
a link in the chain ; only he is always the rotten link, and 
lets the whole down ! But it seems that as Howis was 
driving off to the coach last week, he saw poor Ottaway, or 
rather saw a man, in the distance, drawing something from 
the hedge, and then out springs Mr. Beltimore’s gamekeeper 
from the wood and seizes him. Howis drove up as fast as 
he could, and found it was Ottaway — the man, you remem- 
ber, who wanted to leave Mr. Beltimore’s estate and work 
on ours, only my father thought it would give offence. The 
bird, it seems, was somehow caught for a moment in the 
ditch, and the poor fellow was tempted and took it. The 
fact was melancholy, that he had been out of work for weeks, 
his wife ill at home, and he was then returning after a second 
fruitless journey of three miles to the relieving officer for an 
order for meat, the relieving officer not being at home either 
time, returning with nothing to give his poor wife, when he 
saw the bird struggling before him. Of course the law is 
the law, and we know he ought not to have taken it, and the 
gamekeeper had him safe. But Howis risks missing the 


340 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


coach and drives off to Mr. Beltimore, tells him the circum- 
stances, and pleads for the poor man. Mr. Beltimore prom- 
ises to see to it ; hut of course does not carry out that pur- 
pose. Howis returns the day after the assizes, and finds the 
poor fellow in prison. Howis then goes off to Mr. Beltimore, 
who said he had talked with his gamekeeper, and found it 
was a daring act ; and a little of the prison would he a lesson 
for the future. 

‘ “ I heg your pardon, sir,” says Howis ; “ you may have 
talked with the gamekeeper, hut you have not talked with 
the poor man, or you would not give that opinion ; he has a 
character as good as any man all the country round. I would 
have denied myself anything sooner than that man should 
have seen the inside of a prison ; it was a sudden temptation, 
sir, that perhaps neither you nor I should have stoodj 
Pray, sir, how has his poor wife been fed ? They say she is 
in a decline, and will scarce live to see him out again ! ” 

‘ Beltimore replied, “ If a man chose to incur the penalty 
of a prison, he must take the risks as to what became of his 
wife.” 

* This history Howis goes through to me until I get as 
indignant as he is. All this misery comes from not knowing 
his people ! Had Beltimore just given himself the trouble, 
and taken interest enough to know one man from another, 
he never could have turned the prison key on that poor fel- 
low ! I am going off to see him.’ 

The Captain entered the cell, and poor Ottaway hid his 
face in his hands, and hurst into tears. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


341 


^ 0 sir, I am not worthy of this charity in you I hut in* 
deed, sir, it comes of living where there’s no one to care what 
a poor man is, or what a poor man has ! If ever there has 
been an honest striver to keep house and home together, it 
was me, sir ! But I do say, sir, our Squire has never so 
much as crossed our door-step, nor spoke a word to one any 
way, to know how the world went with one ; taken on and 
put off from work just as you would yoke or unyoke a horse 
according to the labour in hand, with no thought how one 
was to pick up a morsel in between I I ask your pardon, 
sir, but now ’tis all over with me, it are a comfort to pour 
out my complaints. 0 dear, how hard I fought to get a turn 
of the General’s service, since that new parson came up there ! 
Why, they say he seems to know their troubles afore even 
they tell ’em, and points them a way out of them, or to bear 
up under them ; but there’s my poor wife, not a creature has 
looked at her but me and a neighbour all the time of her long 
illness ! Dear me, sir, sure they’ll taste of it some day that 
walks in riches, and in knowledge, and lets we perish worse 
than the beasts — ^for they do feed them in the pastures when 
they don’t work ’em on the land ! But there’s a God above 
hears the groans that their thick walls shut out from trou 
bling of them.’ 

‘Yes, Ottaway; but I am afraid you forgot in your 
trouble that there’s a God above who hears prayer ! Bid 
you kneel down that morning and ask of Him, “ Give u« 
this day our daily bread ? ” ’ 

* No, sir, I did not I ’ 


842 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


‘ Did you kneel down any day by the side of your poor 
wife and pray for your daily bread ? ’ 

* No, sir, I did not ; I cannot say I did ! for never till 
now that you put the word to me did any ever charge it 
home so before ! ’ 

‘ But you know the prayer our Saviour taught us ? ’ 

‘ 0 yes, sir, my mother teached it me ! it is all I do 
knOw, for I cannot read.’ 

‘ But that would have been enough to have kept you, 
Ottaway, if you had daily prayed it with your heart to Grod. 
You know it says, ‘‘ Lead us not into temptation, but deliver 
us from evil ! ” If you had only prayed that prayer, the bird 
might not have come in your way, or if it had you would 
have been delivered from the evil of taking it ! You see we 
find fault with others, but after all the first evil lies at our 
own door, in restraining prayer before God. “We have not 
because we ask not.” ’ 

‘ I see it, sir ! I see it ! But is it too late now, sir ? ’ 

‘ No, Ottaway, no ! God will hear your prayers, and 
count your tears, in this prison, if they be tears of heart-sor- 
row for never having prayed to Him before.’ 

‘ 0 sir, could you please to tell my poor wife so ? she is 
dying, sir, and there’s never been so much as a word of the 
like said to her all the time she has laid bad.’ 

‘ I will tell her all I have told you. One reason I had 
in coming, was to tell you we would take care of her ; and I 
hoped also to bring you to feel your own sin, that God might 
have mercy on you.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 343 

‘ Did you, sir ? God bless you ! for sure He sent you ! I 
don’t feel so bad at heart now as I did ; I thought my poor 
wife would die, and I would be off for an emigrant as soon as 
I was free, and never see my country more, for I felt as it 
had been so hard to me ! but now I think she may hold on. 
If it please you, sir, cheer her up a bit as you have done me, 
and put that to her about “ our Father ! ” She has known 
of that, only I am pretty sure she has let it slip as I did ! ’ 

Miss Keymer had entered on her work in a new school- 
room, but that work had reached a higher level ; she did not 
know it when her work began, but it was not the less true, 
because in her anxious onward glance she marked not her 
own progJ^ss. Diligently and painfully she taught her young 
pupil of “ the things that are seen and are temporal.” Of 
the things that are “ unseen and eternal ” she at first said 
nothing, and never much, but her eyes were raised to them, 
her spirit pressing after them, and this gave a higher tone to 
all her teachiog of common things ; her young pupil felt that 
her teacher’s spirit rested not on things around her ; some- 
times she wondered where it did rest — wondered not in a 
questioning defined, but with the instinctive feeling awakened 
by observation. Had Miss Keymer been asked, she would 
perhaps have said it rested nowhere ; it could not “ rest on 
any tree here,” for she had felt that “ God had sold the forest 
unto death,” and it had not yet learned to mount up and make 
its nest in the clefts of the rock. But though Miss Keymer 
did not realise it, yet her spirit had a rest beyond any it had 
known before ; for to those whose flight is upward, though 


344 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


toiling on wearied wings, yet the very air by which they are 
upborne, and without which they could not ascend, is the 
breathing of the Spirit, and there is rest in that atmosphere. 
It is not felt, because the soul is toiling upward to find repose 
in Jesus, and until it finds that repose nothing seems rest; 
but were it possible to send it back again to earth alone, it 
would quickly feel that there was more real rest of heart in 
seeking Heaven than in possessing Earth. And therefore, 
though Miss Keymer did not realise this, her pupil felt an 
influence higher than an earthly acquirement can command ; 
and when at length a trembling word, or a half-told feeling 
of eternal things, fell from the teacher’s lips, her pupil caught 
the clue. And in Miss Keymer’s true and gentl? character 
there was no contrary current to beat a young heart back, no 
confluent tide, as in some Christians, permanently setting to- 
wards an alien shore ; all was simple, true, and kind : the 
heart of childhood could understand her, and so learned the 
more readily to understand her faith ; and the lessons, diffi- 
cult to Miss Keymer, were caught almost ere they fell from 
her, by the young heart she trained. It would not, we know, 
be always so, but no doubt it would far more often if teachers 
had Miss Keymer’s genuine character ; and so her pupil fol- 
lowed where she herself was pressing on, and she found her- 
self not alone in earthly companionship — the young heart 
she trained for time had linked itself to hers for eternity. 

Miss Keymer wrote to Antonia of her young pupil with 
ever-increasing interest ; but as the years passed on she again 
felt the shadow of yet another approaching separation. Her 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


345 


thoughts turned back to the beech-woods, and she longed, she 
said, ‘ that like the little birds, she could build a nest there, 
and make there her last earthly rest. It was that place that 
ever clung about her heart like home ; and sometimes in the 
evening hours she wept to hear again the voices that were 
once around her there.’ She w;as growing old, she said, ^ too 
old to form new ties of strong association, and she felt weary 
sometimes of always teaching, and longed for more quiet 
times ; but it was her work, and she must try and patiently 
fulfil her daily task, until that work was done. God had been 
gracious to her beyond her thoughts or prayers, and she could 
not doubt ‘but that He still would be. She must soon wander 
forth again alone,’ she said, * she knew not where, but it would 
be enough for her that it was under Heaven 1 ’ 


346 


THE MINISTRT OE LIIB 


CHAPTEK XXn. 

In giving some passing glimpses of pastoral work, we make 
choice of the burden rather than the brightness, because joy 
is itself sufficient to lead the spirit lightly on, but trial and 
disappointment ask the ministering aid of others ; they com- 
pel the darkened heart to say to its neighbour, “ Give me of 
your oil, for my lamp is gone out; ” and, until the last hour 
when the Bridegroom cometh, it is the will of our Father in 
Heaven that we should be ever “ ready to give, glad to dis- 
tribute ” of all that can be imparted by each to the other ; 
“ as each man hath received the gift, so let him minister the 
same, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.” 

On one occasion Edward Seymour was engaged to dine 
with the General and his family, and he went under the 
burden of disappointment. The morning had brought to 
light an act of delinquency in one of the most promising boys 
of his school, a child on whom his bright expectations had 
been fixed. He found that he was not to spend the evening 
in the social family circle, for other guests were assembled 
when he entered. 

At dinner he found himself seated by Miss North. It 
was in vain that he tried to rally from the depression of dis- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


347 


f 


appointment sufficiently to meet the demand made upon him, 
so, following his usual course, he openly confessed that he 
was thoroughly discouraged and oppressed by a sad disap- 
pointment which he had met with that day. Miss North at 
once wished to know the nature of the disappointment, and 
barely listening to the end of the very brief narrative, she 
began to enumerate a list of similar, and even worse cases, in 
her own experience. It was certainly a melancholy satisfac- 
tion to offer, but Miss North acted in obedience to the law 
of suggestion. When any catastrophes were communicated 
to her, she could seldom do more than partially hear and 
most imperfectly weigh them, because so many corresponding 
facts were recalled to her mind under this law of suggestion, 
that the sufferer, now a listener, too often had cause to re- 
gret the venture that had drawn forth additional fuel for the 
smouldering embers of depression. Miss North being pro- 
fessedly a matter-of-fact person, no other line of response 
could be expected from her ; but it was not the less true, that 
one echo of sympathetic feeling — a single application of a 
strengthening principle — or the least brightening of hope, 
would have been worth incalculably more than the whole 
array of parallel instances. Edward Seymour looked around 
with hopeless eyes — there was no release until the ladies with- 
drew, then the emancipated listener breathed more freely, and 
felt a sudden sense of relief. 

Miss North was quite prepared to follow up the conver- 
sation with additional facts on the same subject, but the pastor 
of the Alps kept too distant for any renewal of the conference. 


348 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


He found that evening, as he had often found on previous oo 
casions, one spirit at leisure, from its own practical experi- 
ences, to meet the present feeling of another ; he breathed 
the burden of his disappointment to Antonia. This boy — 
this child of promise — had proved dishonest and untrue. 
His efforts were lost — ^his hopes were gone — ^that boy prov- 
ing false, he had no idea which one among all his children he 
might trust ; such disappointments made all things around 
seem to wither I 

Unlike Miss North, Antonia ever listened with courtesy 
and interest to the whole conversation of the one addressing 
her : she did not come under the wise man’s censure, — “ He 
that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and 
a shame unto him ; ” this might be one reason why her 
answers were generally satistactory and welcome; but the 
chief reason, no doubt, was that her heart was always open 
both to Heaven and to Earth ; another’s trouble or difficulty 
found easy access, and the balm of comfort, the joy of hope, 
or the light to aid the difficulty, an open entrance from above. 
Speaking with a simplicity that gave reply the character 
chiefly of suggestion — sometimes making the listener turn, 
as though surprised, by a whisper from Heaven. 

‘ Are our efforts lost,’ asked Antonia, ‘ because they fail in 
earthly success ? Have they not a still higher aim which 
cannot be disappointed ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; one is too apt to lose sight of all that lies above 
the clouds of disappointment. To glorify God by our efforts 
is our highest aim, and that cannot fail ! But the boy — I am 
heart-broken for him.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


349 


‘ 0, do not give him up ! Do you not think that deeper 
darkness before light is the way by which we are often led ? ’ 
‘Yes; but he was already a child of such promise ! ’ 

‘ May not that promise be the very reason why the greater 
assault has been made against him, and may he not walk more 
humbly with God all his lifetime for having fallen in his 
youth ? ’ 

‘ Yes, it may be so ; but my hope seems to have withered, 
and failing in that child, I know not on which it can rest.’ 

‘ 0, then, let it not rest on any child, but on God only 1 
The prophet Samuel said of Jesse’s elder son, “Surely the 
Lord’s anointed is before him ; ” it was not so ; the prophet 
had to pass over many, but David was in the field — and he 
stood before Samuel at last, “ the man after God’s own heart ! ” 
May we not wait in trust for God’s choice ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; there is cheering in that. God is a Sovereign ; and 
our choice must wait upon His, and no doubt it often needs the 
discipline of disappointment to bring us to this, but in His 
sovereignty there is rest ! I thank you for enlightening my 
darkness with that thought, and we need not forget that when 
God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, or His ways not our 
ways, it is because they are higher P"* and therefore we 
may well be content with His will in all things ! ’ 

The Captain one day overtaking old Michael, Mrs. Bar- 
rington’s servant, joined him, and in the course of conversa- 
tion, inquired whether he understood the new rector’s 
preaching ? 

‘ Well, sir, I say there seems no coming to an end of one’s 


850 THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

understanding, sitting under such preachings as his be \ it’s 
always a drawing out something new : and to see the light he 
puts into things — why, a babe may almost lay hold on them. 
I am sure to sit and hear how he preached up that heavenly 
armour last Sunday — how he showed up the difference to be 
thought of between this world’s armour and that armour of 
light, and then brought it down to each one — where’s your 
Bwprd ? where’s your shield ? did you use them when the foe 
was upon you ? and then showed how we lost the day for 
the want of them ! I don’t know who could get an under- 
standing under it, if an old soldier like me, that’s fought so 
long for the crown, had no feeling to see how I have scarce 
ever stood my ground for the King that’s above ! But, then, 
to be sure, how he preaches down the forgiveness of sins, as 
if he had it right from the good heart of the God above, till 
I was ready to fall down on my knees at the hearing of it. 
I consider when my mistress made him the parson, that was 
the best act she ever did of all her goodness for me ; and so 
I have told her ; and I pray God it may be the like for all 
others who hear him, for certainly I do say they can’t hear a 
better, let them go where they will ! ’ 

‘ Did you never hear such plain preaching before, Michael ? ’ 
‘ Yes, sir, when I was a lad, before I listed for the wars ; 
there was a minister used to preach in our church down in 
Devon, just in that same-way as our pastor does here. It 
brings him back to me wonderfully. I am sure I would have 
walked miles and miles if I could but have heard him ; times 
and often, when I have been at the wars — but the only ser- 


351 


* 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 

mon then was the groans and laments of the dying ! But I 
was spared, and it seems to me as if the very prayer of my 
heart had been granted me, for certainly our parson and him 
I thought on so in the wars, are as like one to another as 
two heavenly things can well be ! ’ 

The early autumn found Laura at the sea with her parents 
and her young friend Leonore ; the same little fishing-town 
that Leonore had visited before. How eagerly did Leonore 
conduct Laura to the well-remembered cabin on the shore. 
There it stood as before, but all around it wore another as- 
pect — a look of desolation was over it all ! Leonore’s heart 
beat quicker, and Laura felt more than she cared to express 
as they drew near and at length reached the door ; it stood 
a little way open, and Leonore gently pushed it further and 
went in ; Laura followed, half holding back, as if in fear to 
venture unbidden. There was Bet Briggen ; but oh, how 
changed^ old, feeble, and wasted, as she looked now, Leonore 
would hardly have known her elsewhere than in her cabin. 
She was lying outside a most wretched bed, and looked up 
surprised on the entrance of the visitors. 

‘ 0 Betty, dear Betty, I am your own young lady I Don’t 
you remember me, Betty ? ’ 

‘ 0, thousands of blessings upon her young head ! Ke- 
mcmber her ? Yes, I knows the sound of her tongue I but 
who could have thought such a poor prayer as mine would be 
answered, and my own darling young lady come stepping 
right in ! Blessings on her, and what a colour, to be sure I 
What, was you after the salt sea, and poor Betty’s dipping 
again ? ’ 


852 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


‘ No, Betty, I am strong and well now ; my dear friend 
here brought me all the way only to see you ! ’ 

^ What, did her ! Well, I am sure if my poor Bill had 
not minded me how fast a prayer scuds up to them skies, I " 
should have misdoubted the sight of my eyes, for ’twas but 
since the turn o’ the tide that I begged hard you might bide 
on this shore once again before Bet Briggen could list for 
your steps on the shingle no more! Is his Honour and 
Madam come, too ? ’ 

‘ No, Betty ; my kind friends have brought me with 
them, just on purpose that I might see you.’ 

‘ Well, only think of that ! It dumbfounders me quite 
to be thought on like that by the goodness of Heaven, and 
gentlefolks too I It makes one seem up above afore one 
gets there. And there’s my poor old man’s Bible, and not a 
soul to speak up a word on it to me, only when I turns up 
his places I get a draught of the words, and they seem meat 
and drink, — that they do.’ 

‘ 0 Betty, we will come and see you, and read to you 
every day while we are here.’ 

‘ Ah, so you will, just as you used to, ringing the sliingle 
under your young, pattering feet. I couldn’t give you a 
dash of the salt sea now if it were ever so^ but I take it you 
never lost the fine colour I brought to your young white 
cheeks what time you bided on this shore afore.’ 

‘ But, Betty, why did you not write and tell us you were 
ill ? I mean, why did you not get a friend te write ? You 
must have wanted a great many things.’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


353 


* No, dear, ’tis not for want I was craving for you, but 
only to light up my old eyes, and hear the sound of your 
tongue once again, and then I can lie down and die.’ 

‘ But how long have you been ill, Betty ? ’ 

‘ Well, dear, ’twill be a year afore Christmas comes round. 
I got a bad leg and then wasted away. I shall never do a 
hand’s-turn again for myself; but one and another chance 
times will look in, and they bring me a bit and a scrap, and 
fill my can with fresh water, and I wants for nothing.’ 

To Leonore and Laura poor Betty Briggen seemed to 
want everything, but they could not prevail upon her to con- 
sent to any changes. ‘ The old place did right well as it was ; 
it had served her poor Bill to the last, and she would never 
crave for a better till she went where he was. A warm rag 
of a blanket would be a dear comfort for nights when the 
wind blew up strong, but she craved nothing more — only to 
see her poor old man’s Bible laid again on them young hands 
as first brought it in, and hear her tongue as it spoke up 
the words,’ 

So, day after day Laura and Leonore went to the cabin, 
and Leonore read. Once or twice they chose out a passage 
that they thought might be one of fresh comfort to the 
widow, but Betty Briggen listened uneasily, and would pres- 
ently say, — 

‘ I don’t know as I have ever heard it afore.’ 

‘ No, Betty, but I am sure you will like it.’ 

‘ Ah, dear, ’tis all good ; but there’s none like to them 
words my poor Bill and I minded over so long. I rides 


854 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


easiest ou them; I don’t know the turns of them new 
ones.’ 

So it was still the same sweet words repeated over and 
over again to the ear and the heart of the widow. She had 
not so much power of expression as poor Bill, but she clung 
where he clung, and ate the same spiritual bread, and drank 
the same spiritual drink. While to Laura and Leonore the 
ocean itself was lost in comparison with the interest of the 
satisfied heart of that poor dying woman. 

They could not be happy to leave her untended except 
by the casual kindness of neighbours. Betty, however, liked 
her solitude best ; her young visitors inquired anxiously in 
the town for any one who was good to the poor, but no one 
could be heard of. One day as they were walking along the 
shore, sad in the thought of leaving Betty Briggen alone, 
Laura said, — 

‘ I declare I will ask those fishermen ; they may know of 
some one, though the tradespeople do not.’ 

‘ Bo you know any one in these parts who is willing to 
speak a kind word to the sick and the poor ? ’ 

* I don’t know as any one on us be’s against that.’ 

‘ No, I am sure you would do as much as that, and more, 
too ; but do you know any rich person — any lady or gentle- 
man? ’ 

‘I don’t know any gentlefolks anywhere hereabouts.’ 
Then a comrade looked round, * If you wants a minister, 
there’s a good one a long two mile the other side of the 
creek : he belongs out there, but he comes a chance time out 


THE MINISTRY 0 E LIFE. 


355 


here, and sits discoursing with we ; he is right pleasant to 
hear. I am told he preaches on Sundays at the church out 
there ; one of those days I mean to go and see, for he’s a 
right sort of one to go after ; it’s not long he has come, as 
I hear.’ 

Laura and Leonore followed up the faint clue in a drive 
with Laura’s father. They found the minister, a curate 
lately come to the next fishing village on the coast ; he was 
readily interested, and promised to find out the poor woman 
and visit her, when able to accomplish it. Leonore and 
Laura thankfully left a purse in his charge to supply all her 
wants, but her wants were not many ; the granting of the 
heart’s latest wish is often a sign that all imsatisfied longings 
are drawing to an end. Betty Briggen, with a few quiet 
tears, parted from the young friends who had made her their 
daily interest, and then, as she said, felt ready to lie down 
and die. A few weeks and Betty Briggen was no more on 
earth, but the blessing imparted and received links insepara- 
bly those that death temporally sunders. 


356 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTEE xxm. 

It was the end of June when Jane left London with her 
parents for the distant village Rectory, which was tho home 
of her aunt. It was a day’s posting, and the calm of the 
summer evening reigned over all when Jane’s mother hailed 
the first glimpse of the village in the distance. A few more 
windings of the lane, festooned with the wild honeysuckle, a 
few more avenues of branching elm and oak, and here and 
there a scattered cottage, from which the children ran to the 
little garden gate to look at the carriage rolling swiftly by, 
and then the grey church-tower — ^half-gilded by the sunbeams 
which lay aslant upon the graves and grassy sod, in that hush 
which has a feeling more than earthly in the bright calm of 
the village summer evening. A few moments, and Nature, 
in her stillness, gave place to all the gladness of expressive 
joy. One turn through a gate, and the Rectory trees, 
the Rectory lawn, the Rectory porch, were all before 
them, and the glad welcoming group. There stood the 
father, in his fresh-heartedness of aspect; there the moth- 
er, in her maternity of tenderest authority; there the 
daughters of the home — Marian in her earliest -wlbmanhood, 
with a mingling light and shadow, as if her spirit had already 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


357 


trod the path of some deep sorrow ; Matifda, thoughtful in 
her gladness ; May, all rosy, laughing glee, in this her four- 
teenth summer ; and Isabelle, who had her mother’s eyes, — 
all these were there, and as the carriage stopped, a boy — a 
tall and pleasant boy, who smiled the welcome which he did 
not speak — threw down the carriage-steps, and those long 
parted now mingled into one bright band again : yet was the 
gladness chastened in its joy, for from the welcoming circle 
one dear form was gone, — one voice among its tones was silent, 
— one clasping hand not there. But in memory the lost one 
stands in view, and every eye looks on the absent, and every 
heart remembers only more, because that presence is now 
among the earthly living. 

The tired travellers were taken to their rooms, and 
Marian attended Jane. Jane had come from the costly 
splendour of her grandsire’s dwelling, but when she entered 
her little chamber, she exclaimed, ‘ 0 lovely room ! will this 
be mine ? ’ 

And yet, why was it that it struck her eye with instant 
power to charm ? We cannot tell, unless it be that true sim- 
plicity has a more enduring attraction than all the adventi- 
tious ornament of art. The chamber that pleased so well was 
partly covered by a square of stone- coloured drugget, with a 
bright blue diamond check, and round the carpet the deal 
boards of the floor showed their clean surface. The room 
was papered with a blue diamond check upon a white ground ; 
a little bed with snowy drapery of white dimity, the curtains 
looped with blue cord, and the short white dimity window- 


858 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


curtains that drew across the wide, low casement, were fast* 
ened back with loops of blue ; the furniture, all of deal, was 
painted stone-colour, with lines of blue ; the casement was 
open, and the evening fragrance of the flowers floated in. A 
lime-tree shaded the casement from the western sun, whose 
parting beams were gleaming through its foliage, and light- 
ing up a fair engraving that hung in a frame of oak above 
the mantel-piece, — it was the German Overbeck’s exquisite 
picture of the Holy Child at his supposed father’s trade, with 
his virgin mother looking on as his hands held and used the 
carpenter’s tools. The blackbird perched upon the lime-tree 
was carolling his evening song, loud and clear as if he knew 
a child of melody were meeting her first welcome there. By 
the open casement stood a large, old-fashioned, easy chair, 
with its cover of white dimity, and near it a little oval table, 
with a large glass ink-bottle, some flowers, and a little rather 
roughly-carven tray of oak, with pens, &c. This was the 
room; and Jane gladly threw herself into the easy chair be- 
side the open casement, and as she did so, said again, ‘ 0 
lovely room ! how happy I shall be I ’ 

Marian waited on her cousin skilfully and tenderly, as if 
she knew how to make her presence and her aid acceptable to 
a tired stranger, for in her cousin’s home Jane was as yet a 
stranger. Then leaving her a little while to rest, she promised 
to call her when Jane’s mother might be ready for the even- 
ing repast; and Jane was left alone with the rich fragrance 
of the flowers, and the blackbird’s mellow song, and the rust- 
ling of the boughs in the summer evening breeze, and the 


THE MINISTKY OP LIFE. 359 

walls before her — and the sacred picture dappled in the sun- 
set with the shadow of the leaves. 

When J ane’s mother went down with her sister, Marian 
returned for Jane, as she had promised. The social board 
was most hospitably spread, and Charley had brought in his 
fresh fruit from the cellar, where it had been kept cool, and 
the circle of two families gathered round the Kectory table. 

The arrival not having been until late, the first silvery 
star was looking down through the pale blue of the sky, when 
they left the tea-table, and drew around the drawing-room 
window which opened on the lawn. 

‘ Let us go out,’ said Jane, ‘ and breathe this delicious air 
as freely as we can.’ And the sisters went with her. 

The old trees on the lawn and around the house looked 
something unlike any other trees to J ane : they seemed to 
her as if they knew that they were home trees, — as if they 
grew with sheltering care, spreading out their branches, and 
bending in beneficent affection over the young forms that had 
grown up beneath them. Not a weed existed in the beds and 
borders, — ^healthy, happy-looking plants bloomed in contrast 
side by side, and the rose-trees drooped with the weight of 
their clustering blossoms. Charley ran away to his vegeta- 
bles and fruit, to see whether any marauding slugs could be 
apprehended in the evening hour ; and the younger sisters 
dropped off one by one to pour the cool evening waters on 
the thirsty flowers with hands of careful affection ; and J ane 
and Marian were left alone. 

‘ It is like stepping into a new world of delight,’ said 


360 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


Jane, as they sat alone in a trellis bower. * These exquisite 
birds, I suppose, make a short summer’s night.’ 

‘ Yes, indeed,’ replied Marian; ‘they seem too happy for 
long slumbering on the trees ; if you do not sleep soundly I 
am afraid they will wake you at dawn, you will have a per- 
fect orchestra around you, and I am afraid you will wish the 
performance a little longer delayed.’ 

‘ 0 no ! let theni welcome the day ! I will have my ori- 
sons as early as theirs. But have you the nightingale here ? ’ 
‘Yes, in numbers ; but they are all gone now except one, 
— a faithful bird, who has built for years in that ash-tree near 
the house, he is always the last to leave us. You may, per- 
haps, hear him ; but I fear every night his farewell may have 
been sung. I was sitting here alone last evening, and he came 
and perched on this side of the tree, where I saw him distinct- 
ly ; he sang to me until the evening prayer-bell called me in.’ 

‘ He will sing again ! ’ said Jane, with her bright faith, 
which trusted ever in all things that were faithful and free. 

‘ I have never yet heard the nightingale’s song ; and I have 
a belief I shall listen to it first here, where all is enchant- 
ment to me.’ , 

Marian turned to the bright speaker, and gave a look of 
such grateful feeling at that tribute to her home, that J ane 
wondered for a moment what had called forth the smile. 

As they wandered back to the house they found that the 
younger ones had persuaded their mamma and aunt to leave 
the house, and sit out upon the rustic bench on the lawn ; they, 
too, were enjoying the soft summer night, while the gentle- 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


361 


men paced the gravel walk in the light of the moon. The 
prayer-bell assembled them within ; and sweet was the choral 
psalm of praise from all that household band, whose full- 
toned harmony arose from hearts of love to Heaven. 

Jane’s constant recollection of the absent objects of her 
interest was one fact that accounted for her changeless hold 
on every heart that loved her. There is an instinct in the 
human soul that knows the hold of a faithful affection ; not the 
sudden warmth of a summer attachment, which the changing 
seasons of life can chill into coldness ; not the pleasant ex- 
changes of mutual attentions, where all things are pleasantly 
balanced to favour the attractions of intercourse, — ^but the 
faithful heart of which you can be absolutely sure in all sea- 
sons, and under all circumstances, — the faithful heart who 
will give you truth when all smiles in sunshine, and tender- 
ness when chastening lays you low, instead of the reverse — 
which seems too often found the more easy course to follow. 
Such a heart was Jane’s ; and as she sat alone in her mother’s 
room that night, filled with the charm of the loving simplici- 
ty around her, she sat silent and thoughtful awhile, and then 
said, ‘ If we could but have left those children of misery hap- 
py, then life here would be perfect.’ 

‘ Dearest child,’ said her mother, ‘ there must be ever a 
shadow haunting our path, to remind us that we are in a re- 
gion of sin and of sorrow, and therefore only strangers and pil- 
grims ourselves ; but it is blessed for us when we can make 
the sorrows of others our grief, before we are called tt) the 
weight of more personal distress.’ 

16 


362 THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 

‘ 0 mamma, I think I could bear personal sorrow bettei 
than the thought of misery — so helpless and hopeless in 
others ! ’ 

‘ Not helpless, nor hopeless,’ said her mother, ‘ if the suf- 
ferer’s will did not refuse the love waiting to raise from the 
dust ; but many of those we hare left will arise, and put on 
their beautiful garments.’ 

‘ Oh ! to see it ! ’ exclaimed J ane. 

‘ You have done what you could for them, my child ; and 
you still can ask of God to do for them all that they want ; 
therefore, take all the brightness of life around you now. We 
have need of all that God gives us, — the gladness no less than 
the grief; only meet all things at the feet of your Saviour, in 
closest association with Him, then your griefs will all lean 
where your joys have twined before, and He will be your 
centre and sustainer in all.’ 

Jane had not been long in her own room before the gen- 
tlest knock at her door aroused her attention. It was her 
cousin Marian, she had heard the first note of the nightin- 
gale, and thinking that Jane would be yet hardly sleeping, 
and that it might be the last night of the heavenly melody, 
she came gently to see, and if waking, to tell her that her 
prophetic hope was fulfilled, — the bird had not flown. Jane 
was sitting at her open casement, her candle was out, and the 
moon shone in full through the uncurtained window ; her long 
golden tresses, loosed from their bonds, flowed back on her 
shoulders, and any eye which had gazed on the picture of her 
childhood might from that alone have recognised her then. 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE, 


863 


As Marian entered the room the bird of night again poured 
forth his lay ^ and before Marian could speak, Jane exclaim- 
ed, ‘ 0 ! I hear it ! that song I have never heard before ! ’ 

J ane rested in her large white arm-chair, and Marian sat 
on the ground at her feet, and there alone they listened in 
silence, in the light of the moon, to the bird, as he poured 
forth his lay beneath the soft wings of the gently brooding 
night, poured that song forth in joy, as if in thrilling earnest 
of the day that shall dawn on “ the new heavens and the new 
earth,” where “ there shall be no more night,” when the light 
shall be too pure to need darkness to purge it, too deep to 
need shadows to tone it, when slumber shall not be wanted — 
because strength shall be celestial; when rest shall be for 
ever inseparable from action, and repose interwoven with ex 
pression, and all harmony live on unbroken. They listened 
together, and their spirits ascended on the breath of that 
melody, until Earth and Heaven for them were blended into 
one, and the shadows of sin and of sorrow were lost sight of 
in the Light and the Love that shall dispel them for ever. 

The early birds did not wake the young sleeper, tired with 
her journey. She slept on, and though they did their best 
to arouse her, she heard not their call ; but her mother’s gen- 
tlest step awoke her at seven, and, refreshed by her slumber, 
she arose. The birds were then almost silent, but it was the 
land of songs Jane had entered. She had not been up long 
when the sound of sweet voices rose from the garden, and she 
saw from the window her young cousins at work among the 
flowers ; and, as they worked, from time to time, they sang. 
Jane listened, and she caught the words as bright, rosy May 


364 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


sang them out in broad and happy earnest beneath Jane’s 
casement, while she tied up the carnations which were open- 
ing in the morning sun. 

Children of the- heavenly King, 

As ye journey sweetly sing ; 

Sing your Saviour’s worthy praise, 

Glorious in His works and ways. 

“Ye are travelling home to God, 

In the way the fathers trod ; 

They are happy now, and ye 
Soon their happiness shall see.” 

‘ What a heavenly place it is ! ’ said the faithful maid, 
who attended upon Jane. ‘ To have been about the world 
as I have with my lady, and yet I never saw the place like 
this ! I am sure one might spend a life away here, and feel 
always at the gate of Heaven.’ 

‘We will not cheat ourselves, Grunter, whatever we do; 
seeing it is not the jpZace, but the spirit j in which we live 
that will keep us at Heaven’s gate — remember that, and you 
may be always there ! ’ 

‘Yes, I know it is so; but I am a terrible one for stick- 
ing in the place ; if the place be all right, I am ; and if the 
place be amiss, so am I while I am in it — ^what light I have 
seems to get smothered up in the darkness.’ 

‘ I suppose,’ said Jane, ‘ if the truth could be known, 
you are in danger of shining only by reflection from without ? 
If you have light from Heaven within you, the darkness 
around will not be able to put it out ! ’ 

But the bell called the household together, and the song 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


365 


of thanksgiving ascended to Heaven, not from the household 
alone, but from some of tbe aged villagers who came up from 
their cottages ‘ to catch the dew-fall,’ as they called it, along 
with the family. 

‘ Shall you peep at me?’ May asked of Jane, ‘you will 
find me so busy after breakfast.’ 

‘ Where shall I peep ? ’ inquired J ane. 

‘ 0, just turn the corner, at the foot of the staircase, 
and then you will come to a door up three steps, and I shall 
be there.’ 

‘ Mamma, I am sure that first white lily will open this 
morning ! ’ exclaimed Matilda at breakfast ; ‘ I think it will 
open in the sun about twelve, when I cannot watch, because I 
must be busy ; will you just walk down and look at it ? Only 
think what it will be to see it unfold those lovely white leaves ! 
I could sit by it all day to watch for their opening I ’ 

J ane soon went in search of her bright little cousin as 
requested ; and found her in a large storeroom, with closets 
round it, a wide dresser above the closets, and shelves over 
the dresser. May was standing at the dresser, with two 
wooden bowls of water before her, a tray on which wet cups 
and plates were draining, and a tea-cloth in her hand. At 
Jane’s light step she turned her head. 

‘ 0, I am so glad you are come 1 I have fetched in a chair 
all ready ; do just sit down, and I can tell you everything.’ 

‘ The veriest little washerwoman,’ said J ane, ‘ with her 
two pails before her ! ’ 

‘ Yes; one is warm water, and one cold to make the china 


S66 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


look clear. I wask it all every morning, because Kezia has 
60 many rooms to attend to ! she does it in the evening. I 
have to be as busy as a bee, and not lose a minute, because 
Matilda comes at ten o’clock, and all my work must be fin- 
ished up first.’ 

‘ What is Matilda’s profession ? ’ 

‘ 0, Matilda makes all the puddings and the tarts, and 
cakes and biscuits ; she is cook, and I am housemaid I Only 
I do it alone, but Charley always manages his lessons so as 
to come when Matilda comes, and he reads to her all the 
time ; he is reading Milton through to her now — I will tell 
you how I found it out (for I am doing my lessons when 
Matilda is here), but sometimes at dinner Charley says to 
papa, “ That dish is Penseroso, papa, and this is 1’ Allegro, 
both equally good I assure you, according to your taste I ” 
Charley is so fond of Matilda ! she suits him, because she is 
always listening when he reads ; he says she makes puddings 
as if she were hemming a silk pocket-handkerchief — so quietly 
he means —but he says the clatter of my cups is insufferable, 
and he is sure that he never could put any poetry into them 
or into me ! but you see I don’t mind, because it would be 
rather a bore to have to listen to reading while I am seeing 
after the china, wouldn’t it when you come to think ? ’ 

‘ Yes, certainly,’ said Jane ; ‘ if Charley resembles a 
reader I have been told of, who, though of course very hum- 
ble, was heard to confess that he could read Milton so as to 
make the stones move ! such a talent would be inconvenient 
with you and your china so near 1 ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


367 


0, 1 will tell Charley that ! he delights in funny things. 
I always save them up for him. But shall I just show you 
Matilda’s closets ? she will not think of doing so, I know. 
Look, are they not wonderfully neat ? every jar has its cover 
and its label. I shall be so glad when I am housekeeper 
and look to the stores ! I shall be when I am fifteen, and 
then Isabelle will wash the cups and saucers. Mamma says 
she is afraid I shall grow up only a busy little housewife ! 
Do you think there is any fear ? ’ 

‘ 0 take the hint, by all means,’ said Jane, * a hint is 
sometimes worth the world if you take it ! ’ 

‘ Then I will take the hint. What do you think I had 
better do ? I read French, and I know a little German ; I 
have no ear for music, but I can always play the hymn-tunes 
when I am wanted, and I keep all mamma’s accounts, and I 
am very fond of history, and mamma says I do pretty well 
in geography. Tl^ey laugh, and say I only want the house- 
keeper’s keys to make me perfection ! but you see it really 
is only because I am happy at everything — all things are so 
pleasant when one is able to do them ! I am only so sorry 
for the poor helpless sick people ! I always run down to 
them when I can ; so what do you think I had better do ? 
I should like to take mamma’s hint.’ 

‘ Suppose, then, we keep the secret between us, for I can 
give a guess ‘ I very much suspect that if you were only to 
do all these pleasant things, and not talk about what you do, 
that they would never call you little busy housekeeper again ! ’ 
* 0 dear, but it is so cheerful to talk ! ’ 


368 


THE MINISTEY OF LIFE. 


‘ Never mind, you have resolved on taking “ a hint,” 
keep the secret and try ; look at me, and I will make you 
remember, without any one finding out, and you will then be 
quite safe from ever growing into a busy little housekeeper.’ 

‘ 0 dear ! but I will try ; I should not like to be ihai^ I 
am sure I should not, because it has nothing of Heaven in its 
sound ! I wish I was not so fond of talking ! Do you think 
if I keep the secret you can cure me ? ’ 

‘ Yes, beyond a doubt I can, but it all depends on your 
keeping your good resolution to take a hint ! ’ 

* Dear me ! I never knew before that a hint was of so 
much use. I will certainly take it, only it will be very hard 
at first. I shall look at you and remember. 0 dear, I think 
Matilda is coming, and I have not hung up my cups ! O no, 
I am so glad, it is Marian ! ’ 

‘ You little thief! who would have thought of your steal- 
ing our cousin the first thing in the merning, and here is 
papa hunting for her to take her for a walk ! Will you like 
to take a walk with papa ? ’ 

‘ Yes, of all things ! I will be ready in an instant I ’ and 
giving the bright child a kiss, Jane left her with Marian to 
help her to hang up her tea-cups. 

‘ Do you like Sunday ? ’ asked Isabelle, the youngest in 
that house, of J ane, as she was walking alone with her in the 
garden on the last day of that first week. 

‘ I love Sunday ! ’ responded J ane ; ‘ do not you ? ’ 

‘ Yes, I think it is the best of all days ; these warm Sun- 
days we each take our school class out-of-doors, and it is so 
pleasant 1 ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


369 


‘ I shall sit somewhere where I can see you all,’ said 
J ane, ‘ as I am not to he allowed a place in any one’s class ! ’ 
‘ Do you think you could just go and read to one of my 
best old people ? ’ asked Isabelle, looking up inquiringly, 
‘ she lies alone on her bed, and I always think of her so on 
the Sunday ! and yet I cannot go because I have my class, 
and of an evening we are with mamma ; mamma has a large 
Bible-class then, and papa one for the young men in the 
schoolroom. I should be so glad if you could go I ’ 

‘ Yes, dear, I will do anything I can for you or your 
people.’ 

‘ 0, how kind you are ! I will run down after tea and 
tell her, it will make her Sunday happier. She says the 
words of the Bible are always coming into her heart, but, 
she says, sometimes she gets weary with want for the voice 
of the words. I am so fond of her ! When I read to her 
once of Joseph she said that was what I am to her — the 
child of her old age ! I did not take care of her until dear 
John died, she loved him so much ! and then, when he was 
gone I tried to be her comfort, and now she says she has him 
in Heaven, and me on earth ! Is not that beautiful ? ’ 

‘ Yes, beautiful indeed ! Has she been ill long ? ’ 

‘ She is not ill, I think, it seems only weakness. She 
used to come with the old people every Sunday to, dinner 
here, only now she cannot ; so I have a little Can, and I just 
run down and carry her dinner.’ 

‘ Do the old people come to dinner on Sunday ? ’ 

‘ Yes. 0, Sunday is such a happy day ! It is only the 
16 * 


370 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


very old people — they lock up their cottages and come to 
church in the morning, and then they come to us, and we 
have a long table in the kitchen, and Matilda and May and 
I lay the cloth, and set all the basins directly after service, 
and then Sarah, our cook, has only to pour out the food into 
the two little tin pails. In winter it is soup with dumplings, 
and in summer it is Irish stew with vegetables ; and Charley 
always sits at the bottom and asks the blessing, and Matilda 
and May and I take it by turns to be there with him, and 
sit at the top, and dine with them, and we are so happy I 
Then the old people come and sit by us, some with one and 
some with another, while we teach our children ; they like to 
sit by us and listen ; sometimes they fall asleep a little while 
— and that helps to rest them for the afternoon service, be- 
cause they are so old ! And sometimes I think perhaps they 
still hear our voices in their sleep, and dream of holy things. 
I always sit on summer Sundays just where I can see dear 
Johnnie’s grave ; Marian sits quite away from it, she says 
she is obliged to look above the grave to the blue sky to help 
her to get on ; but I like to feel near his grave where he lies 
sleeping, it always seems to make me speak more gently, and 
more words of love.’ 

' I stood there this morning ! ’ J ane said, ‘ before you 
came down to the garden ; it was early, and the dew hung 
on the blossoms of the flowers you have planted around it, 
they looked so lovely there with the sun gleaming through 
the elm-trees ! I thought I should have visited it alone, 
but the bee and the butterfly were both there before me, 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


371 


beautiful emblems, I felt, as I watched them, of the same 
spirit on earth and in Heaven, both sipping the same honey- 
dew from the flowers, just as we shall drink of the same 
river of God’s pleasures hereafter as here, only here we have 
the life of the labouring bee ! ’ 

* I wish you were going to 'Stay with us always ! ’ said 
Isabelle, as the only response she seemed able to make ; ‘ I 
cannot bear to think you will go ! ’ 

‘ I never like going from places I love,’ J ane replied, 
‘ but most likely I shall lock you safely up in my heart, 
where I have one dear little cousin already — ^you remind me 
of her, I always keep her in my heart wherever I am, she 
can never get out any more ! ’ 

^ Do lock me up with her, and never let me out any 
more ! ’ said Isabelle. 

‘ 0, you may be sure if I once lock you up you will 
never get out 1 so it is a serious consideration both for you 
and for me. At least it would be if Heaven did not teach 
us so to love by its love to us ; — those whom our Saviour 
once loves never get out of His heart any more ! Do you 
remember what St. John says of that?’ 


372 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


CHAPTEE XXIY. 

There was a secret in the family life of this village 
Rectory. It may, alas ! he called a secret, for that nursery, 
that schoolroom, that home is rare to which the important 
fact has been made a familiar truth of daily life. Each 
child of that village Rectory was taught from reason’s earliest 
dawn its young responsibilities. The being a little older was 
constantly impressed as a reason for the tenderest care of 
those a little younger ; the being a little stronger a reason 
for patience and forbearance ; the possession of a little more 
knowledge a means of giving more power to lead others 
aright. The parents of that home repressed the natural 
selfishness and vanity of their own feeling for their children, 
training them as those who felt that they were laying the 
foundation of a character in each child whose growth and 
development was to continue through eternity. All selfish- 
ness and all display met an instant check, instead of being, 
as is often the case, strengthened by inconsiderate fondness 
one moment, and reproved the next. No infant tyranny, 
no unkind provoking, no ridicule or indifference to another’s 
disgrace or pain, could live in the atmosphere of that home. 
Its sons were taught from childhood that their position was 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


373 


not one of selfish exaction, but given by Him who when 
He deigned to make Himself our Brother, taught man from 
Heaven how to use his high prerogative of power. That 
home laid up in its children’s hearts none of those bitter 
memories which darken many an early retrospect, and which 
so often would not have been if half the pains devoted to 
the imparting of mental acquirement, had been a little earlier 
and perseveringly used in teaching children their relative 
responsibilities. 

Marian was the eldest, and her tenderness so like their 
mother’s, that each younger heart, instead of passing the 
sister by, seemed rather to pass through her to their parents. 
Marian was the haven, always at hand, into which the little 
tempest-tossed vessel could run to repair its tackling, un- 
furl its sails, and put cheerily out to sea again. But the 
tenderness of older years was not seen in Marian alone ; it 
had been kept always in view as a . predominant aim with 
each one, and not without response. A passing incident 
may be given in illustration of this ; it was not known at 
the time, because this tenderness of the elder to the younger, 
and the consequent trust of the younger in each older heart, 
was an under-current, not asking notice, but flowing on, and 
only to- be known by the bright fertility of that English 
home. J ane had been out on a distant excursion with her 
uncle, and Matilda had gone with them. On their return, 
Jane did not see her young cousins, but Matilda found 
Isabelle in trouble. It did not seem to be the consequence 
of any disgrace, but in some way she had got out of humour ; 


374 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


all that was required was that Isabelle should recover her- 
self ; but this she could not do ; the cloud was there, and 
wanted a sunbeam. Matilda saw and heard, and hastened 
to her room ; there she opened her desk, wrote a little note, 
all love, without reference to any present distress, chose 
from her treasures a little gift that she knew would please 
poor Isabelle, added a sixpence from her purse — and in that 
Rectory a piece of silver was accounted wealth by its chil- 
dren — did up the little packet, and entrusted it to Charley, 
who found poor Isabelle in her gloom. Isabelle opened the 
parcel, read the note ; its words unfroze her heart, its treas- 
ures were priceless in the gushing feeling that they won, 
the little housewife to keep for her own, and the sixpence to 
spend for the poor; she had wanted something to unbind 
her gloom, and this had done it, the love had done it, and 
in her heart it sank down to its depths ; in that moment 
her sense of tenderness was deepened for a lifetime. This 
passed as a mere incident of the moment, unnoticed by any, 
yet it proved that the law of sympathy lay uppermost, and 
that is the secret of living to bless. Matilda was only four 
years older than Isabelle, a difference of age which in too 
many homes would be thought to present no claim to self- 
forgetting ministering care. 

When Jane first visited Marian’s room her interest found 
the warmest expression there. The window, like Jane’s, 
was a casement, but at Marian’s window the rose and white 
jessamine looked in and clustered around; her writing-table 
stood near it, and books, garments for the poor, drawings 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


375 


and engravings on the wall, enriched it in every part. Jane’s 
eyes rested on one portrait, it hung partly hidden from ob- 
servation, but a glance was enough for Jane to read truly. 
She made no inquiry with reference to it, but sitting alone 
there with Marian, the sister’s heart at length found volun- 
tary utterance. She showed the picture to J ane — it was a 
portrait of her brother — and then sitting down again by her 
side, she said, ‘ 0, how strange is the varying feeling of 
which one heart is capable ! Caprice of feeling, it sometimes 
seems almost as if it might be called ! I have hardly dared 
to let that picture be visible, lest any one should notice it, 
and speak to me of him, and yet to you I could show it. 
0 dear Jane, you have been sent to our home as an angel 
of blessing I Since you came my heart-heaviness seems to 
have yielded, and the sunshine of life dawns again on my 
eyes. I do not mean that I have ever been melancholy, 
but the suffering at times has been overwhelming, and Earth 
seemed to be seen through a mist. It is mercy to have the 
veil lifted, and to be able to look not only on Heaven, but 
on Earth, in the brightness Grod has given.’ 

‘ 0, how terrible that “ shadow of death ” must be ! ’ 
Jane replied ; ‘ terrible I mean to those who are left here 
in the shadow, not to the one who passes through it to the 
brightness beyond ! ’ 

* It would be wrong,’ Marian replied, ‘ to let you, who 
have never known it, believe that it has only terribleness 
to those who are left, or that those left on earth have only 
the shadow. 0 no, it is not so ; there is a passing through 


376 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


the shadow, and a dwelling beyond it in conscious commuii' 
ion still with the departed that sustains the heart ! But it 
is also true that the shadow rests here ; and the two portions 
must be both ours, the shadow here — the joy there. Noth- 
ing severs the sense of spiritual companionship there ; and 
the shadow here may be lightened, it has been for me by 
your coming. All bears the dear remembrance still, each 
trace, each record is the same, but the shadow over them is 
lightened, and that by the love that sent you here among us.’ 

Jane listened with the intensity of one who hears of solem- 
nities personally unknown ; from Marian’s words she learned 
that it is possible to dwell on earth in such communion of 
heart with another, as that the personal separation of the 
world of nature, and the world of spirit, shall not have pow- 
er to destroy the sense of actual companionship. This feel- 
ing instantly and for the future illumined to Jane the dark 
shadow of Death, when for a moment any thought of possible 
separation from those most dear came over her heart ; while 
it elevated and hallowed all her earthly intercourse with the 
most loved of her life, that what Marian realised with her de- 
parted Brother might be hers — if separation from the most 
loved of earth should ever be her lot below. 

‘ I cannot conceive,’ Jane’s father said one day to the vil- 
lage pastor, ‘ how it is that you have stayed on immoveably 
here on such a starving stipend ? ’ 

‘ I did not,’ that pastor replied, ‘ enter the sacred minis- 
try for its emolument, but for the labour of love that it of- 
'ered me. I have had lack of nothing ; our children have 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


377 


been as bappy, clad in their simple print dresses, as i^they 
had been robed in the costliest work of the loom ; they have 
gathered their education as they could from their mother, 
from me, with each other, and alone ; their minds are all as 
unfettered and fresh as the morning, and their hearts, I trust, 
under an influence higher than, that Earth. They are 
ready for every claim upon them ; and as I said before, they 
gather knowledge very much as they can — the advantage of 
which, I believe, is that they gather it far more naturally, 
and it assimilates more as nutriment, and less as mere acquire- 
ment. The mental and moral atmosphere children grow up 
in has, I am sure, far more to do with what they are than 
the lesson-books they study. If that atmosphere be a perfect- 
ly natural one, not made up of elements constrained into it, 
but circulating around the children with an effortless flow, 
like the air they breathe, they will be influenced by it ; and 
if its elements are, as far as may be, pure, and tender, and in- 
telligent, the children of the home will grow up to witness 
to the native air they have breathed.’ 

‘ But have you not found a parochial necessity for alms 
beyond your power to bestow ? ’ 

‘ No ; I never from the flrst looked upon my position as 
one of personal almsgiving. My children share their bread 
with the hungry, and I am always thankful to dispense the 
offerings of those who are willing to trust our knowledge 
of the poor. Our farmers, at my request, cart our own coals 
in their empty waggons, and coals in sufficient quantities for 
our poor to buy them at a lower price than they would other- 


378 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


wise pay through the winter. Our people are very poor, 
a dry crust is often the widow’s only meal, but we all struggle 
on together— cheered by each other’s love, and poor as they 
are, the Scriptural order is maintained — “ So hath the Lord 
ordained that they which preach the gospel should live of 
the gospel ” — a temporal blessing from their hand is often 
brought to my door. Now and then I make a petition to 
some distant friend, and you would imagine it a public fes- 
tival on the distribution of a few blankets, or similar gifts. 
The blessing of living poor among the far poorer is, that my 
children have no idea of wasteful self-indulgence, while their 
young hearts are as generous as the earth on which they tread. 
And they have learned the pleasure of self-denial in minis- 
tering to others.’ 

‘ But have you no future anxiety for your children ? ’ 

0 ! believe me, the blessing of the future has its root in 
the present to a degree often far beyond what we realise ! 
Humbly I may look up to my God and say that my first and 
last aim is, with all that I have, to honour Him — ^my sub- 
stance, my children, myself ; and will He be less faithful to 
me than I aim to be in all things to Him ? If by God’s 
grace my children depart not from the path they are tread- 
ing, I have no more fear for their future on earth, than if the 
words had been audibly spoken from Heaven that all things 
shall work for their good. My desire is not to hedge them 
up from all trial, but to prepare them to meet it ; a simple, 
healthful, self-forgetting youth is, I am sure, the best natural 
preparation for after-life ; “ Loving-favour is better than 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


379 


silver or gold,” — the best of all earthly security that our 
children will be cared for through life, is the certainty that 
they will be loved, as we know the unselfish heart always will 
be. But trust ascends higher, and rests on the God that 
hath fed me all my life — on Him faith reposes ; He trusted 
these children to me ; I trust th^em to Him ! ’ 

It was a lovely summer evening, and Marian and Jane 
went out to walk in the meadows, that were shaded on one 
side by a long line of wood. On their way they stopped to 
call upon some of the cottagers. The last little dwelling they 
entered was one whose bright garden without, and look of 
order and comfort within, excited at once a feeling of interest. 
The aged people who lived there were both at home — the old 
man just returned from his work. He welcomed Marian with 
more expression than J ane had heard before from the lips of 
those village men ; for most of them were very silent. But 
this old man made his welcome heard as well as felt ; and 
Jane, a stranger to them, was glad when Marian lingered on 
in the cottage. The old man had a wasted figure ; he look- 
ed too small and thin for toil ; no charm of form or features ; 
but he had a touching power about his words, a touching 
melancholy power, that was more easily listened to than an- 
swered. There lay his Bible beside him, and it was evident 
that he lived too much within it to feel that anything unusu- 
al could be seen in that labour-soiled dress and that large 
open Bible together. There was a different feeling in this 
cottage to that which had been breathed in any other. Jane 
had been with Marian, where the labouring peasant’s piety 


380 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


lived in all its loveliness and hallowing simplicity Jane 
had been with Marian, where the poor within their homes 
were hungering and thirsting for heavenly refreshment, where 
deaf ears listened, and dim eyes beamed with tearful bright- 
ness, as they caught from Marian’s lips the words of Life. 
And J ane had been with Marian where the poor on the couch 
of sickness and the bed of death were laid, not at the Beau- 
tiful Gate of the earthly Jerusalem’s temple, but at the Gate 
of the Jerusalem above, asking a heavenly benison from 
those who drew near, while they waited until attendant angels 
bore them within. But not one had been like this ; and yet 
it was not the faith, it was not the hope found there, for these 
faltered forth in imperfect expression : it was the trembling 
tones that breathed from the heart of one who seemed to feel 
he stood alone on earth — alone in his sin, alone in his utter 
helplessness, alone in his determination to acknowledge to 
the last that in him there dwelt no good thing. No^ words 
of Scripture passed his lips, yet his soul — if man could judge 
— lived only in the covert of that Word. His eye was fixed 
on Marian as he spoke ; and at his heart-penetrating words 
her face gathered a sadness, blending with its love, as she 
talked with that old man. 

At length she rose to go, and as they wandered on to long 
green meadows, where the evening sunbeam and the evening 
shadows fell, they both were silent; until at last Jane broke 
the silence with, ‘ Tell me of that old man.’ 

‘ I thought,’ said Marian, ‘ he would win your interest. I 
always go alone to him, but I felt I could take you he is 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


381 


one of the deepest interests of my life, and I am always hap- 
py, yet always sad with him.’ 

‘ What is his history ? ’ asked Jane. 

‘ 0 ! it was a dark one — in his heart all sin, in his life all 
evil — except that worst of all, a false profession. He was a 
lawless sinner, the bane and terror of the neighborhood : how 
bad, I cannot tell you. Neither kindness in any form, nor 
legal punishment, could subdue him ; and he seemed desper- 
ate enough for anything. I heard in my childhood of this 
dark character, and the dreadful den of crime his cottage- 
home was made. I knew all means had been tried ; but it 
was strongly impressed upon my mind, that not only all 
means, but every individual ought to try, for I thought even 
then, “ Who can tell but that God may be gracious ? ” The 
Sabbath — the holiest day — ^seemed the best for me to try.. 
I woke with the early sunbeams, and rose and prayed for him ; 
prayed that that day might bring the prodigal home, the sin- 
ner to his Saviour. No early Sabbath morning lives in my 
thoughts so vividly as that — the exquisite loveliness, the glory 
through my open window of the rejoicing land, I alone, with 
the fragrant flowers that bloomed around my window, — alone 
with them and Heaven. Intense and vivid was the sense of 
the sinner lost, the sinner found, the sinner safe in Heaven. 
And could this — ^might this be for him ? My Bible said it 
might ; faith bid me hope ; and love invited me to ask. My 
brother, now in that calm rest above, was then my life’s com- 
panion. I told only him, and he, when the morning service 
was over, walked with me. I can see his heavenly face as it 


382 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


was in expression then, when I left him near the cottage, in 
a shady nook, concealed alone, that if I called he might run 
to my side. I looked upon him as he stood, so fair and 
gravely bright, under the tree’s dark shadow, and turned my 
trembling steps away. It was the day of grace for that long- 
hardened sinner ; and, to exalt the mercy, it was sent by the 
feeblest agency of Earth. It was a fearful thing to me to 
pass the gate, go through the dogs, and enter at that door 
where I had never been before. I knocked, and then went 
in. I saw the casks of spirits, the table spread with costly 
fare, the men around it ; and the darkest look that ever fell 
on me was from that poor woman’s face. I stood behind the 
chairs of those at table, the old man was before me ; I trem- 
bled almost too much to speak, but begged that he would no 
longer break the Sabbath-day, but would come to church. 
He said he would “ some day.” I asked him when ? He 
said, “ Next Sunday.” It was an awful moment when I an- 
swered and said, “ You may be then in hell ! ” I could not 
have said more, for power was gone. I had no need to utter 
more, — his knife and fork fell from his hand, and he replied, 
“ I will come, — I will come to-day ! ” “ Will you all come ? ” 
I asked. They said they would ; and I went away. He did 
not break his word : he came. God met the sinner on his 
way, blessed to his soul the preaching of the word, — and he 
is what you see him now. Years do but little change him : 
he looked to me as old as now when I first entered at his 
door, and he holds on in trembling, clinging hope. It always 
seems as if the Sabbath dawn had a more hallowed charm for 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


383 


him than for any of our people ; he does not know how it is 
linked in close association with him, — how once it was de- 
voted to him ; hut though his feeble frame is worn with six 
days’ work, he rises in the Sabbath’s morning prime. His is 
the only dwelling that would offer, to any one who wished to 
find it, perfect repose, even before* the inorning service ; there 
he and the Bible hallow the early sacred hours. And ten- 
derly now he, and his wife also, can smile on me. It was 
not until after the lapse of years that she spoke to me of my 
visit when a child, saying with strong feeling, “ He would 
take no more dinner that day ; he said, ‘ To think of such a 
young creature coming to warn an old sinner like me ! ’ he 
was a changed man from that hour.” 0, the countless looks 
of love that have recompensed that one dark scowl ! — But I 
do not know that she has any hold on Heaven. It is still, 
as it has ever been, intercourse from which one turns in sad- 
dened tenderness. But you can well believe how despair of 
any soul is now impossible to me. And when I hear the 
most hardened given up, as it were, in the tone in which they 
are spoken of sometimes, and spoken to, I can only turn to 
Heaven, and say, “0, if they did but realise, as well as con- 
fess, that Thou canst save to the uttermost ; that there is for- 
giveness with Thee, that Thou mayest be feared ; then they 
would work in deeper love, in brighter faith, in stronger pa- 
tience ! ” and then, “ who can tell whether Grod will be gra- 
cious ? ” “ God doth not respect any person, yet doth He 

devise means that His banished be not expelled from Him.” ’ 
‘ Where are the little ones ? ’ asked their father one morn- 


384 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


ing, at the breakfast-table : all except Marian having suddenly 
disappeared after prayers, and * the little ones ’ being the term 
by which their father still called his growing-up family. 

‘Ido not know,’ said their mother; ‘but we will not 
wait for them, they are sure to return soon.’ 

So the breakfast began. Marian’s cheek had flushed at 
the inquiry, for it was Marian’s birthday, and she, probably, 
suspected some design. Their father always said, he marked 
the year by the Church’s festivals, and could not add a record 
of family birthdays ; yet, whenever reminded on the days, he 
would smile, and bless them then. Marian felt doubtful of 
what each moment might develope ; but her suspense was 
not long, — a little chorus of voices soon broke on the ear 
through the open window, the singers as yet unseen. 

Chorus. — ‘ Listen, listen, sister sweet. 

We thy Birthday morning greet ! ’ 

Eecitati'oe. — * I, the Lark, aloft with dawn. 

Chanting o’er the dewy corn I ’ 

‘ I, the purple Bulfinch gay, 

Piping to the buds of May I * 

* I, the Thrush, that carol light. 

When the day-spring gilds the night.’ 

‘ I, the Owl, tee-whit ! tee-whoo ! 

Welcomed by the wiser few.’ 

Chorus. — ‘ Singing, singing, sister sweet. 

We thy Birthday morning greet ! ’ 

As the song concluded, the group appeared in view, 
dressed in garlands, and bearing in their hands a little tray 


THE MINISTRY OP LIPE 


385 


covered with sprigs of sweet-brier, among which lay their of- 
ferings of love ; putting the little tray into their mother’s 
lap, they each one threw themselves into Marian’s arms, and 
gave her a clinging kiss ; and then, with all the nature of 
their characters, were most anxious to place the little tray to 
best effect in the centre of the tabje, and Marian was only to 
have partial glimpses through clustering leaves until the re- 
past was over. 

May cast one or two inquiring glances upon Jane, but 
Jane, touched with the incident, failed to meet them; so 
bright little May thought this was a subject, no doubt, quite 
clear of all shadow of housekeeping, and therefore to be 
freely talked of. 

‘ Did you not think our poetry rather good, papa ? ’ 

‘ 0 yes ; first rate ! Was it Shakespeare ? ’ 

‘ No, papa.’ 

‘ 0, now. May,’ exclaimed Charley, ‘ why cannot you let 
a thing alone when it is done ? ’ 

‘ I may talk about it, Charley, because you know you made 
the poetry, not I ! Did not you think that clever, papa, — 
my being the bulfinch, and singing to the buds of May ? ’ 

* Yes, indeed, the conclusion of the couplet was most ap- 
posite ; it quite took me by surprise.’ 

‘ Nonsense, May ! ’ said Charley again ; ‘you make papa 
turn everything into ridicule.’ 

‘ I propose,’ said Jane, ‘ to set the words to music after 
breakfast, when we have all peeped under the leaves. The 
whole aviary of birds must attend to direct me.’ 

17 


386 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


CHAPTER XXY. 

The musical performance after breakfast was a very ani- 
mated and entertaining one, and the concert lasted long. 
Marian was amongst the little group in her own bright in- 
terest at the commencement, but, after a time, they suddenly 
missed her, and Isabelle said she had gone away ten minutes 
before. It was touching to see how fast the sense of her 
absence lowered the tone of the mirth ; they had all in their 
eagerness been pressing around Jane, and all except Isabelle 
had fancied Marian behind them still. They now thought 
the musical performance had attained to its perfection, and 
they wanted Marian to appeal to. Isabelle flew away, say- 
ing, ‘ I will run and find her.’ 

The little group was again enlivened by Marian’s pres- 
ence ; but Jane discerned that the day held on but trem- 
blingly for Marian ; and when the performance was pro- 
nounced perfect for evening rehearsal, she rose from the 
piano, and said to Marian, ‘ I want you to take me some 
long, lonely walk alone with you, — a walk that may live 
with me in memory of the day.’ 

Marian had spent an hour with her mother after break- 
fast, before the musical entertainment began, and she now 


887 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 

responded to Jane’s wish as to a proposal that would best 
please her. It was one of those days of August when the 
fresh breeze that blows over the reapers has almost the vigour 
of the first autumnal air ; the land lay all golden with its 
harvest fields, and the dark-green foliage waved richly above 
the bright grain. Jane and Marian walked a little way 
through corn-fields and lanes, and then entered a long line 
of lovely meadows, with high ground here and there, planted 
almost like little groves, with oak-trees. They climbed up 
beneath one beautiful cluster of trees, and sat down. The 
village lay in the distance before them, with the church in 
full view, and the corn-fields and reapers ; the Rectory was 
hidden by its trees. They sat looking on the landscape in 
that silence of feeling that questions its own power of expression. 

But Jane’s presence was so gently — so brightly sustaining^ 
that Marian soon gathered power. Words were given to the 
deep channel of feeling, and she spoke of the departed again 

‘ It is a trembling day,’ she said to Jane ; ‘ any day when 
one’s self is the object in any way of the feeling of other::; 
must be so ; and this is^ only the second birthday I have 
passed since my brother was taken : but it is a day of inex- 
pressible happiness, too, — for, since you came, the heavy 
shadow has parted, and the sunbeams, which always rested 
above it, have penetrated and fiowed in beneath it again. 
The shadow does not press heavily now, but only hangs its 
softening shade above the brightness below. I was so glad 
when you asked me to walk ! I could not have walked alone 
to-day, nor with any one, without a great effort, except you, 


388 


THE MINISTRY OV LIFE. 


because my heavy thoughts can flow out in expression to you 
and lose themselves in your brightness. We used to walk in 
these meadows often together, — ^he was so fond of them ! 
The vision of his presence is everywhere around, but I would 
not part with the sense of it, for a heavenly light seems to 
rest where he trod. O, his memory is blessed 1 ’ 

* Yes,’ again said Marian, in answer to an expression of 
Jane’s; ‘I wish I could make you know him. Those cot- 
tages that lie before us could bear witness to much of what 
he was; but few, if any, could tell all. Yet it was possible 
to see him often, and not know him, for any atmosphere in 
which he could not breathe freely shut him up : but he was 
capable of drawing out into closest companionship the deepest 
intellectual and spiritual power, and of lighting up all into 
interest who were not disinclined to respond.’ 

‘ His companionship,’ she' continued, ‘ was my best edu- 
cation, for his thoughts always kept on high ground, and yet 
their elevating influence was ceaselessly relieved from all 
strain by the playfulness of his wit, which was ever gleaming 
out, and the tenderness of his clinging affection. Next to 
our parents, it is impossible to say what our home owes to 
him. He was always the first to arrest any wrong tone of 
conversation we might ourselves be getting into. “ Do not 
let us talk about people ! ” he would often say, and lead on 
at once himself to something else. He had the strongest 
feeling about the narrowing effect of making individuals the 
subject of conversation ; he seemed to think that no heart 
allowing itself to get into that habit could ever acquire the 


THE MINISTBY OF LIFE. 


389 


same influence over others, or retain itself the brightness and 
\ the glow of general feeling ; he was sure that it narrowed the 
heart, and lowered the mind, and constrained the free inter- 
course of life; and he always kept watch over us. Ola 
. brother’s watch of ceaseless interest and tender affection — 
feeling you, and all that concerns you, his own personal in- 
\ terest — it is impossible to describe what it is 1 If Earth had 
but more of such brothers it would grow nearer to Heaven I ’ 
‘ Did the poor people love him ? asked Jane. 

‘ 0 yes, all loved him who knew him, — ^who really knew 
him ! and by some he seemed instantly known, though, by 
some others, never. But it would be a long unfolding to tell 
you how or why the poor loved him. There were many to 
welcome him from their rest in Heaven ; but you can well 
imagine what the intercourse of such a spirit among them 
must have been. And often he would come from his visits 
to them, or his books, in the twilight hour, and finding me, 
would say, “ Now, Marian, come and rest.” And then he 
would sit and play his own wild melodies, composing as he 
played, and stringing on the unbroken chain the sweetest 
airs he knew, until his form grew indistinct in the dim light 
of evening. And he would sing to me with a voice so high, 
clear, and beautiful 1 In our walks, too, he would sing ; and 
oftenest of all to me he sang, “ There is a river, the streams 
whereof shall make glad the city of our God.” And now, 
when sad, I seem to hear him singing still, “ There is a river ; 
there is a river ; ” as though he would remind of the bright 
joys of Paradise, and the sweet streams of Earth.’ 




890 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


* Did he preach many times ? ’ 

^ Yes, for a few months; and not one who heard him 
then, I think, can easily forget. But it can ill be told, the 
hearts that listened and the tears that fell. He was dying 
then, and could with difficulty climb the pulpit stairs, though 
when there he poured forth an unbroken, an unfettered flow ; 
and hearts there are that bless those dying words. He rests 
from his labours, and his blessed works do follow him.’ 

‘ Did he know that he was dying ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; and at flrst he wished to live. He said to me, 
“ I long to give a life-time to my work. Heaven looks all 
blessedness, but Earth has so much suffering, so much sin, 
that I would gladly live to work for God, if it might be His 
will, before I entered into rest.” Once, when he had been 
told that his life could not be long, he came straight to me, 
and sitting down in my arm-chair he said, with perfect 
calmness, “ I find I cannot live — they tell me so ; and, dear 
Marian, my one feeling about Earth is, that if I had lived it 
would have been, I trust, to witness against sin ! Oh ! sin 
is not thought of as it ought to be by many who profess to 
know its evil. Sin is not hated — ^not fled from ! When I 
am dead, if papa should raise a stone in memory of me, I 
want you to have written on it, “ The wages of sin is 

DEATH.”’ • 

‘ Had he spoken so of sin before ? ’ 

‘ 0 yes ! his own life seemed to flow like a clear stream 
to Heaven, and yet his sense of sin was inexpressible. Years 
before, when he first went to College, he was talking one day 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


391 


with me, and he said, “ Marian, often all that I can feel, all 
that I can say to God, is gathered up into that one short 
prayer, ‘ Do not abhor me ! ’ *’ Such was even then his view 
God and His holiness, and himself in his sinfulness ; but he - 
is sinless and with the Holy now, and here the impress of 
his lost presence is love, and light, and blessing ! ’ 

In that evening’s twilight Marian said to Jane, ‘ Will 
you play to me ? ’ 

Jane turned and looked inquiringly, but did not speak in 
answer ; and Marian said, ‘ I shall be so glad if you will ! I 
have always dreaded music in this hour, since I lost his ; but 
if you would play to me this evening it would seem like a 
blessed step upon his sacred foot-print, — covering and shield- 
ing it ! and then I could bear any to pass over the same 
ground. Do play to me this evening ! ’ 

Jane turned and played on long to Marian. 

‘ How do you succeed with your school ? ’ Jane’s father 
inquired of his brother-in-law, not long after their arrival. 

‘ Well, our school is one of our many bright spots, and its 
history is this. On our first coming here we found only a 
dame’s school, which practically resolved itself into sitting 
still at the shaking of the rod, and learning, — hardly know 
what, — for both boys and girls left long before they had, for 
the most part, acquired the art of reading. My wife threw 
her energy into it, the school increased, and an assistant- 
teacher of course became necessary. My dear wife has 
literally here made her own material before she has had it 
to use, but “ she worketh willingly,” and “ her cMldren^^ on 


4 

392 THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 

every side, “ arise up and call her blessed ! ” Pardon me, 
for life is a wonderful retrospect, and her presence has 
been far more than the sunbeam ever gilding the stream ! 
but this assistant-teacher was the next requisite. My wife 
chose one of the most promising village girls, carrying on 
her education ; which, however, was a very simple one. The 
girl possessed so much natural ability, that we finally re- 
solved upon making a further effort for her. We advanced 
the money necessary for her to go for a short time to a 
training-school ; and then our ancient dame becoming quite 
incapable of any exertion, even with the aid of another as- 
sistant-teacher, we offered our trained mistress to make her 
first trial with us, not with any intention of keeping her, for 
I did not suppose the art she had acquired would exactly 
meet my ideas for a village population, and the stipend I felt 
would be below her capabilities. But here she is to this day, 
almost as much a child of my wife’s as any one beneath our 
roof, and as happy in poverty as we are ! ’ 

* You did not, then, find any cause for objecting to the 
trained system when you tested it ? ’ 

* 0, it is by no means the system I have tested, but the 
teacher ! She is wise enough to take all the personal benefit 
of the training for her own mind, without compelling her 
school into fetters. I never could have given in to the scream, 
and the rap, and the rush, and all the mechanical education 
of mind. But Bachel, our young mistress, has disciplined 
her own powers, and leaves the children in quite sufficient 
freedom and repose. She has a very large school, for the 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


393 


children come from several of the villages around, where 
they have no parochial instruction ; and she has several young 
assistants. I believe we have no undue stimulating, or over- 
pressure of mind ; but then I keep the ratio of learning at a 
moderate amount.’ 

* What accomplishments do you profess to teach ? ’ 

* On that line I shall do better if I refer you to Marian, 
she will be delighted to give you the details.’ 

So Marian entered on the subject with her uncle and 
aunt, saying, with a smile, * 0, we are not very clever ! We 
live among the wild flowers, looking up to Heaven, and 
trying to brighten earth, as they do, but not much beyond. 
If I am to come to particulars, you must pardon their domestic 
minuteness. We make a great point of good and easy 
reading ; the best reader, both with the boys and girls, has a 
prize every year, only the same child never has the same 
prize twice, except for general good conduct ; and if the same 
child wins that prize a second year, then papa always adds a 
duplicate prize for the child that comes next. In needle- 
work we have three prizes, one to the best plain-worker, a 
second to the best mender — the children are taught to mend 
their own clothes, and their fathers’ shirts, and their mothers’ 
gowns, and a prize is given to the best lender ; all our 
household linen is repaired by them, and they also darn 
stockings for practice — ^the third prize for work is to the 
best darner. Our prizes are given at our annual “ frolic,’ ’ 
as our people call the /ete day; and as all the children of 
our large Sunday-school, which includes many who are almost 
17 * 


894 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


more than children, are with us then, we have some prizes 
whicli include all. We have a prize for the one who has 
been most regular at the weekly school, and another for the 
one most constant on the Sunday. We have a prize for the 
child who has learned most Scripture in the year, in each 
school ; and a prize for the child who has remembered most 
of the sermons each Sunday. Then we have some few other 
prizes— one for the child who keeps the little cottage garden 
the neatest and best ; another for the child who has a character 
without fault from his employer. But I am afraid I shall 
quite weary you, and hardly repeat my lesson perfectly. 
Any child who can be reported as having made a steady effort 
to be diligent and good has a little reward — a token of ap- 
proval and encouragement, and all enjoy the/e^e together. 
Our children in service always try to get their holiday then. 
Each girl who lives three years in one place, and has a good 
character, receives a patchwork quilt made by the children 
of the school; this is the only reward we give to the young 
women in service : the servant lads have a gift from papa 
under the same circumstances.’ 

‘ Do you teach them geography ? ’ 

‘ Well, in our fashion we teach it ! We have three good 
maps in the schoolroom, one of their own country, one of the 
Holy Land, and one of the world. They learn of countries 
and places in constant association with the existence and pro- 
gress of Christianity ; and I believe the association of this 
one great idea has given a reality to their little measure of 
acquirement, which has not left it merely in the memory, but 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 395 

lias helped to enlarge their minds and influence their, hearts. 
Often when a little hand has put its farthing or its halfpen- 
ny into mine for the poor heathen, I see a glance raised to 
the map of the world, as if some indefinite estimate were 
forming in the little peasant’s mind as to what influence his 
free-will offering might have on the state of that world — not 
a delusion, for it has its influence I It is more an idea and 
feeling that we try to give them, than any laboured ac- 
quirement of names ; so that I am afraid you would find 
them technically very far behind most schools under so 
good a mistress as ours : but I think, if moral feeling could 
be estimated, you would find that our children would not be 
the lowest in its attainment ? ’ 

‘ Do you teach them history ? ’ • 

‘ Yes, in the same fashion ; we lead them on through a 
connected line as far as the events of the Bible will carry 
them ; we go on with the simplest possible line of history 
until it links itself to England, then we take up our own sov- 
ereigns, and tell them enough to interest them, as we go 
through the whole line, encircling with all the feeling we can 
the reign now hallowing the throne of their country for them. 
But we teach them nothing beyond, we only try to give his- 
tory one clear stream through their minds. I fear they 
could hardly give you more than two or three dates, and a 
school-inspector would give them a black mark at once ; but 
yet they have an idea and a feeling of history, which I do 
not think they would have had — if we and they had spent 
time on the general acquirement of as much knowledge as 


396 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


was possible. They have mental repose enough to catch our 
feeling ; the few facts they learn have a life in them which I 
think will preserve them, when the mere acquirements of 
memory would have passed hopelessly away.’ 

It was not long before a visit was paid to the school by 
Marian’s uncle and aunt. There was Bachel, seated on a 
chair at her low table, and her peaceful school around her, 
and bright were the looks of love and expectation that were 
raised from young faces on Marian. There was no exhibit 
tion of anything. Marian’s uncle and aunt talked with the 
children, and questioned them as they liked, and the chil- 
dren greeted them with a song and a hymn. They were all 
busy at work, boys plaiting and knitting, and the girls at 
fieedlework. 

Tell my aunt of your party at Christmas,’ said Marian. 

The children looked from Marian to their visitors, and 
lack again to Marian, as unwilling to begin : but Marian 
was never disobeyed ; she waited in expectation, and a little 
boy replied, ‘ We have a party ! ’ but there the history con- 
cluded. 

‘ Who comes to your party ? ’ asked Marian’s uncle. 

‘ Grrandfather, Grandmother, Uncle Billy, Poor old blind 
Tom, Old lame widow Jenks comes up in a cart,’ &c. &c., 
many a little voice shouted in response. 

‘ A party indeed I ’ said Marian’s uncle ; ‘ your grand- 
fathers and grandmothers, and all the old people I would you 
invite me ? ’ 

‘ Yes,’ said a little girl in her courtesy ; ‘ No,’ said a boy 
in his truth ; and there the question ended. 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 397 

* But tell niy uncle what you do for your party ? ’ 

* We wait upon them ! ’ 

‘ Tell him what you do besides ? ’ 

* We sing to them.’ 

‘ And what else do you do ? 

* We work for them.’ 

‘ You wait upon them, sing to them, and work for them — 
that must be pleasant indeed,’ again responded Marian’s uncle. 

‘ Yes,’ said Marian, looking on the children, ‘ we are 
happy indeed I They make a little present for each aged 
person in the village every year. They knit a pair of stock- 
ings, or plait a hat, or a bonnet, or the girls make some arti- 
cles of dress ; sometimes it is a nice large basket we plait for 
an old man — ^is it not ? and then we have a little play our- 
selves in the schoolroom, and the kind farmers send us some 
apples, don’t they ? ’ asked Marian, and with the ‘ yes, yes ! ’ 
of the little assembly, the conference ended j with a parting 
smile on the children, and a kind parting glance at Kachel 
— ^whom any looker-on might have longed to take as a model 
for a village mistress. With all the simplicity of village 
dress and pleasant aspect ; power seen at once in her gentle 
repose of manner ; she had no awkward bend in place of a 
respectful curtsey, but in her whole deportment showed a 
superior mind; while her expression of countenance told 
that she had gathered knowledge, and light, and love, from 
sources high and pure enough to keep her lowly-hearted. 
Such was Rachel, and such that village-school; how many 
might be like it, with far less of pecuniary expenditure than 


898 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


they now require ; but, it may be, with more love, and faith, 
and patient prayer. The wealth of the purse and the ener- 
gies of the mind are more easily devoted than those affec- 
tions of the soul which are linked with influences divine, but 
who would fall back on the lower resources, and work in the 
mere turmoil of time, when he might live, and move, and 
have his being in a higher atmosphere, and bring the ele- 
ments of that atmosphere to bear upon his work at every 
point ? 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


399 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

Before the sickle was put to the corn, the annual fete 
was held at the village Rectory. Rachel, the village school- 
mistress, went to the farm-houses a week before the day ; 
there were several farmers not in the parish who attended 
the church for the truth’s sake ; to these also Rachel went, 
told them that the day for the “ frolic ” was fixed, and asked 
if she might come round for any contribution from them. 
Then came Rachel’s joy in receiving the stores, as she went 
from house to house with her helpers and her baskets; and 
on the frolic morning, the first event after breakfast was the 
visit to Rachel’s bright cottage, to see her tables covered 
with bread, butter, milk, and plum-cakes, the kind — the will- 
ing contributions of love. 

The details of all the glad preparations for the glad 
“ frolic” of the day can be easily conceived ; the cutting of 
green boughs for shade in the meadow or the barn, as the 
weather might portend ; every garden furnished its flowers ; 
the young servants were there keeping holiday, and all ren- 
dering their cheerful aid. The farmers’ daughters came 
down in white aprons to Rachel, and the bread, and butter, 
and cake were cut by their hands. 


400 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Every one smiled on that day — every heart seemed to 
catch the contagion of joy. Even in the first year of mourn- 
ing for the loved and departed, the sisters all wore white on 
that day, for they felt that their garments of grief, reminding 
each villager of the general bereavement, would cloud all the 
joy ; so they put on their garments of gladness, and the tear 
stood in many an eye that looked on them that day in their 
raiment of white. 

Charley prepared all the children’s cards of invitation — 
small pieces of pasteboard, with the day and the hour of 
assembling on one side, and a little seal on the other. The 
friends assembled at the house ; the farmers came when they 
could, and when they liked, to look on in the meadow. No 
child could pass the meadow-gate except they presented the 
little ticket. They waited in the eagerness of expectation, 
until Marian came towards them. 0 how dear was Marian 
to the hearts of the children ! She took each little ticket 
from the impatient hands, as the children fiocked round her. 
Marian wore her flowers, red and white, in the folds of her 
snowy dress ; and the children came in their flowers — ^the 
boys red and the girls white, and they ran about as free as 
possible in the meadow. And the fathers of the children 
hastened home from their work, and came straight to the 
meadow ; and the elder brothers came also, and sat on the 
sloping banks and watched the scene of young life, in which 
many of them had once borne a part. Then the parents sat 
round on rude seats prepared, and a short address was made 
to all ; after this the prizes were given, and though the num- 


THE MINISTBY OP LIFE. 


401 


ber of them was not great, yet the interest was most ani- 
mating. The prizes were very varied ; books, little trunks, 
with lock and key — to hold a child’s books and treasures ; a 
pail, or a little washing-tub, or a box-iron, to be used by the 
young possessor in her home. If the reward for constant 
good conduct were won by a very young child, it would be a 
Bible of good type or a little wooden arm-chair, or some 
other suitable gift that might survive through another gen- 
eration to perpetuate the happy memory of successful effort. 
Then the children had their tea — Chappy children looking up, 
with their eyes of gladness and love I and the mothers and 
fathers looked on ; until refreshed — the little ones ran merrily 
to play, and the rest of the tea, the bread and butter, and 
cake, were handed round to their parents, and brothers, and 
the village guests, who were glad of the passing refreshment ; 
and Matilda, and May, and Isabelle, waited on them; and 
Charley, in his kindness, ran off to the few bed-ridden poor 
within reach, that they might catch a glimpse of the gladness, 
by seeing him come in laden with some little refreshment 
for them, in order that they might feel that they were not 
forgotten. And the merry shouts of the village children 
broke in peals on the ear as each side hailed the victor, or 
made merry at a failure. 

The chief interest of all the games was the race of the 
boys : all ran in it for practice, though the younger ones 
expected not to win, but only looked forward to the time 
when they should be victors in their turn. All watched this 
with interest ; the prize was always the same — the flowers 


402 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


worn*by Marian. The race was the whole length of the field 
twice run^ and the same boy must be victor at each end. 
A sentinel stood at the further end to see who came in first, 
and a log of wood, or some pedestal as rough, on which 
the victor stood to take breath, when one shout was given 
to salute and encourage him, and from which he had at 
the signal to take his first step in the long line of the 
second race again. At the other end stood the expectant 
guests, and Marian, a little in advance, the first who reached 
her feet had the flowers from her hand, and the cheers and 
shouts around the boy always marked the point of the even- 
ing’s highest excitement. If the same boy did not win each 
time of running, other games were turned to, and the race 
tried again. The flowers were never given except to the 
double winner. All shared in the mirth and the joy of the 
evening. At seven o’clock the children were dismissed, 
some having far to go ; then the invited guests returned 
back again to the Rectory to tea in the drawing-room. Such 
of the farmers as could be prevailed on to come, were enter- 
tained by Charley, with Matilda and May to assist him at tea 
in the dining-room. If the guests were too numerous for the 
room, some of them sat outside the win lows, and the cheer- 
fulness was only increased by the rustic accommodation ; and 
tired limbs and beating hearts found slumbering rest when 
the sun of that earliest day of August had descended. 

‘ And so Mrs. Chripps is coming this evening % ’ the fa- 
ther of that bright Rectory family remarked one morning at 
breakfast ‘ you are going to introduce her to your aunt and 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


403 


^cousin, I suppose ? ’ he said, looking round with a smile on 
his children. 

‘ Yes,’ said Marian, ‘ they must know our dear Mrs. 
Chripps.’ 

‘ I think,’ continued the father, ‘ that it is a scheme of 
mamma’s to get me lectured for my last Sunday morning ser- 
mon. Mamma does not like to scold me herself, so she sends 
for Mrs. Chripps, who most certainly will.’ 

‘ 0 papa, what capital fun ! ^ exclaimed Charley, rubbing 
his hands with satisfaction ; ‘ really, aunt, it is one of the 
richest things you can conceive to see Mrs. Chripps drive papa 
hard up, and he always gives in, and pleads for forgiveness ! ’ 

‘ For shame, Charley I ’ said May, ‘ you will make aunt 
think that Mrs. Chripps must be fierce ; and you know papa 
only “ gives in,” because he says Mrs. Chripps is always in 
the right.’ 

‘ So he does, my little May,’ replied the father, ‘ and he 
will help you to defend Mrs. Chripps all the world over.’ 

‘ 0 papa,’ again exclaimed Charley, ‘ you need not do 
that ; Mrs. Chripps could fight a battle a great deal better 
than you ! ’ 

‘ Her neighbours’ battles, Charley, but not her own ! 
I fancy ; you never yet saw Mrs. Chripps stand up for her- 
self?’ 

‘ No, papa, you are right ; but she can go at it wonder- 
fully ! I don’t believe any one could hold out against her.’ 

‘ This Mrs. Chripps,’ said the father, addressing their 
relatives, ‘ is an elderly lady, residing in the next parish, — a 


404 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


neglected parish, I am sorry to say ; but Mrs. Chripps seems 
to have been planted in it as a foster-mother, and a most de- 
voted one she is. She walks in all weathers to our church, 
and though by no means wealthy, she is the most beneficent 
friend we have in the neighbourhood. She contributes most 
generously to our school, though she never will come to our 
frolic ; she says her love of gambols is over, but not her 
thankfulness that there are those who can attend upon them. 
She is altogether a very original character.’ 

‘ I like originality,’ Jane’s mother replied, ‘ and I do not 
think it a very plentiful production of the age, so I shall be 
prepared to welcome your friend.’ 

‘ I am sure Mrs. Chripps is original enough ! Charley,’ 
said May, rather reproachfully, thinking in that line to draw 
out a full admission from her brother. 

‘ Yes, aunt,’ said Charley, looking past his sister, ‘ Mrs. 
Chripps is as original as Paddy Blake’s echo ! Do you 
know that when Paddy Blake said, “ How do you do ? ” his 
echo made answer, “ Very well, I thank you.” ’ 

‘Indeed! that was a most original echo,’ replied his 
aunt ; but May did not quite relish the fun. 

‘ Do come, and take a little walk with me in the garden,’ 
said May that morning to Jane. 

‘ I do so want just to tell you about Mrs. Chripps, be- 
cause she is a charming person, and you might not quite 
know her at first. I wish Charley did not talk about people. 
Marian always says it is much better to leave every one tc 
judge for themselves. Indeed Mrs. Chripps is not fierce ! ’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


405 


* I never mistake courage for ferocity ! I assure you,’ 
said Jane ; ‘ so you may be perfectly easy as to my discrimi- 
nation.’ 

* No, only perhaps when you see her, what Charley said 
might make you think her a little fierce ; but, indeed, she 
lives to do good, and her heart is so kind ! I shall be miser- 
able if you do not like her ; all that about Paddy Blake did 
not at all apply to Mrs. Chripps.’ 

* No, I should not think it did,’ replied Jane, ‘ only you 
see it made a little fun, which was what Charley wanted just 
then. Do you know he had before talked to me of Mrs. 
Chripps, and he told me that she was the delight of his life ! ’ 

^ Did he ? 0, then you will be sure to understand her,’ 

replied little bright May ; ‘ I am so glad ! ’ And she ran to 
her china. 

Mrs. Chripps arrived that evening to tea, and with a 
hurried ‘ How do you do ? ’ to each, and the addition of 
* I am verji happy to be introduced to you ; I am sure I am 
very glad to see you ! ’ to the guests, Mrs. Chripps sat down 
among the social family party. When you looked at Mrs. 
Chripps, sitting stiff and straight on the edge of her chair, 
her countenance strongly lined with age and anxiety, her 
person altogether small, sharp, and angular, you could have 
supposed it possible that, naturally, Mrs. Chripps might be 
a little fierce ; sitting there in silence, ready to listen with a 
sharp attention, and to give instantly a keen answer ; but 
after May’s assurances to the contrary, the least that could 
be done was to suspend a personal judgment for the present. 


406 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


Mrs. Chripps maintained unbroken silence. At length, after 
several attempts at conversation, the village Kector remarked, 
‘ Our friends to whom we wished to introduce you this even- 
ing, Mrs. Chripps, take a great interest in our poor people.’ 

‘ I daresay they do. I am glad to hear it, I am sure,’ re- 
sponded Mrs. Chripps hurriedly, and relapsed into silence 
again. 

‘ We found dreadful poverty and misery in London ! ’ said 
Jane, by way of another attempt to draw out a response. 

‘ I am sorry for it ; sorry for it, I am sure ! ’ replied Mrs. 
Chripps, and again sat silent in her upright position on tho 
edge of her chair. 

Charley thought this was no fun ; so he slid up behind 
Mrs. Chripps, and privately whispered, ‘ Papa is terribly afraid 
you will catch him up /about his sermon on Sunday morning.’ 

‘Very true, my dear; very true 1 ’ responded Mrs. 
Chripps, most audibly and hurriedly. ‘ Did not like it at 
all I Mr. Mills, it is your sermon we are at. N^ver heard 
you preach so ill in my life ; did not like it at all — indeed I 
did not ! Pray, was it your own ? ’ 

‘Yes; I must plead guilty to having composed it once 
upon a time, but to tell you the truth, I did not much like 
it myself.’ 

‘ 0, well then, there’s some chance of our not coming 
off with such fare any more ; but pray, how came you to 
preach it at all ? ’ 

‘Well, I was fairly incapable of head-work last week. 
I trusted for the afternoon sermon, but I went back to my old 
college stores for the morning.’ 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


407 


‘ You had a deal better have trusted for both; that’s all 
I can say. Such preaching may do very well for your col- 
leges ! I suppose that is what you train them to there ; such 
rounding up and polishing; don’t like it at all! Hearts 
want something that will grapple with them — not all that 
smooth hanging together that lays hold of nobody, and that 
nobody knows how to lay hold of. No use in the world ! 
We want something more clenching than that.’ 

‘ Very true, Mrs. Chripps; I said you would not let me 
off without a good lecture.’ 

‘ No ; did you ? ’ replied Mrs. Chripps, and the sudden 
smile of repentant benignity that overspread her unconscious 
features, was enough to convince any beholder that no fierce- 
ness could be lurking within ! ‘ I am sure I have no right 

to pass censure, a poor creature that just goes to church hun- 
gering and thirsting for the great and good things I want ; 
but then I take it hard if the preacher rides above me like 
that, and sends me home again with no fresh oil in my vessel ; 
but I am sure it is seldom enough I have to say so of you — 
these four-and- twenty years I have heard the glad tidings flow 
down from that pulpit ! I can witness to that.’ 

‘ 0, Mrs. Chripps, you always give a sugar-plum to take 
away the bitter taste of your medicines.’ 

‘ Do I ? ’ said Mrs. Chripps, with another of her most 
geuial smiles. ‘ I am sure it is the least I can do. Only 
truth must be spoken ; there is never so much of it in the 
world, that I can find, as to let one off from one’s own measure.’ 

Here little bright May thought that her turn might come 


408 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


in ; so she whispered in a rather audible tone, * Mrs. Chripps, 
did you see the guardians ? ’ 

* See them ! my dear ; did not I say that I should ; and 
they saw me too — ^not always the pleasantest sight in the 
world. Mr. Mills, I do say that it is too much for any 
woman to bring a set of men to a right mind against their 
own will. If I had not stood as firm as a post, they never 
would have done it, and the poor body would have lost house 
and home in a week ; that is, if they had had their way ; 
but it is a mercy there are more wills and more ways than 
one in this world — if that one is to be a hard one — that is 
all I can say.’ 

‘But how did you get the point settled, Mrs. Chripps?’ 
^ asked the Rector. 

‘ How ? Why, the right way, to be sure. “ Gentlemen,” 
said I, “ it is all very well to make new laws if you choose, 
but you must fit them, and ease them where they press down 
too heavily, or you will have some day to answer for the 
working them ! ” Well, I got nothing but the law ! the law ! 
“ Gentlemen,” said I, “ you know very well the law was 
never made so rigid but what you can ease its hard necessity 
when there is any reason that you should. I am tolerably 
aged, and some of you are not young, but I have only one 
thing to say. If you will not raise a hand for the widow, God 
helping me, I will ! She shall eat of my bread, and drink 
of my water ; and when I have nothing left, which in truth 
is not a great deal now, you shall give us both an order for 
the Union, for, in truth, you will not see her there, with my 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


409 


will, until you see me also ! So once for all, gentlemen, will 
you show what mercy you can to one of the most richly- 
deserving, or will you send me back with a denial ? ” Well, 
then, they talked together, and said they would allow so 
much. “ Gentlemen,” I said, you know that will never 
keep body and soul together ; it will be starving, not living ! ” 
So with that they murmured a little, and then added some- 
thing more, and so I was satisfied. But if you could have 
seen the poor thing when she found she was to have help 
enough to struggle along with her poor babes, it was too 
much for me — I could not stand it ! but I shall always speak 
well of the guardians, for they hearkened to me when I 
pleaded for the widow, and I am sure I pray God may not 
turn away their prayer, nor His mercy from them ! ’ 

‘ I quite love Mrs. Chripps,’ Jane whispered to May, 
when she came for her parting kiss after prayers on that 
evening, and little bright May went in delight to her slumber. 

' But it is time that we leave that happy village to repose 
in the sunshine of soul that sheds its pervading influence 
over many a bright parish in our land. “ Blessed of the 
Lord — ^for the precious things of Heaven, for the dew and 
for the deep that coucheth beneath, and for the precious fruits 
brought forth by the sun, and for the precious things put 
forth by the moon, and for the chief things of the ancient 
mountains, and for the precious things of. the lasting hills.” 


18 


410 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


CHAPTER XXYH. 

When Mrs. Barrington left London she spent two months 
on a distant estate, and then returned to the Grange to make 
preparation for an autumn visit from her friend ; hut when 
she revisited her Alpine home, her kind inquiring eye instant- 
ly discerned a shadow resting over the friends who welcomed 
her back. The General was constrained in manner, and evi- 
dently disquieted. Mrs. North bore an anxious look, and 
when Mrs. Barrington looked around for the cause, she saw 
a weight of sadness on the Alpine pastor’s brow, and Antonia’s 
smile had lost its sunny light — she retained her cheerful as- 
pect still, but her playful mirth was gone. It was not diffi- 
cult to guess the cause, — a suit presented, and by authority 
denied. 

Mrs. Barrington asked no questions. None better knew 
that, of all earthly things, true confidence is most to be wait- 
ed for in patient tenderness. It was not long before Mrs. 
North called alone at the Grange, and gave the history. The 
mutual feeling was an unyielding one, but its consummation, 
forbidden by the General, who was resolved not to consent 
to Antonia’s entering upon a position which he felt would 
veil her in life’s shade, instead of showing forth her bright 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


411 


attractions on every side. She was gifted to adorn the high- 
est station, to become the admired of all in her own home, as 
she had ever been in his ; he could not give her to the poor 
alone. Had Edward Seymour been willing to take a differ- 
ent position, to adopt the style of the surrounding gentry, the 
General would not have refused his consent, but the orphan 
child of his brother — ^his own beautiful Antonia — should 
never be looked down upon by the world while he had a hand 
to raise her, a voice to forbid her taking a position not suiffi- 
ciently elevated in his estimation for one so gifted. Mrs. 
North had taken a higher view of the subject; in her lonely 
communings with truth she had seen that it is the elevation 
of soul, not of cir.cumstances, which gives attractive and com- 
manding influence ; she believed that a lowly lot was often ap- 
pointed to exhibit this great fact more strikingly ; her own per- 
suasion was that Antonia, in a cottage, would win from every 
side the true-hearted of every rank around her ; but her own 
position -was a difficult and delicate one; Antonia was not 
her child, not even her own niece, and she therefore felt it 
impossible to urge Antonia’s uncle to consent to a union that 
he felt unsuitable for his brother’s child. 

Mrs. Barrington saw that it was this world’s last struggle 
for supremacy in the veteran soldier’s heart : it was cheating 
him under the specious guise of a guardian’s care for his 
brother’s orphan child ; but it was the world, and He who 
had * overcome the world,’ alone could subdue it now, in its 
last stronghold in the soldier’s heart. 

Antonia met Mrs. Barrington with her glowing love un- 


412 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


dimmed, but neither she, nor the Alpine pastor, alluded to 
the sentenced hope. The General was at first distant in in- 
tercourse with Mrs. Barrington ; he seemed to have armed 
himself against an expected appeal, but at length finding Mrs. 
Barrington the same as ever, and the one painful subject 
never approached, his former cordiality returned ; and after 
some weeks had passed, he called at the Grange, and intro- 
duced the subject. Edward Seymour stood as high as any 
man living, the General said, in his regard ; he had asked to 
have the very jewel of his home, and yet, the General said, 
he would not have held out against Antonia’s feeling, had not 
Edward Seymour declared it impossible for him to change 
his style of life. It was not a pecuniary difficulty — the 
General would have obviated any question on that ground, it 
was a point of principle ; and therefore, the General, who 
knew the man, feared the obstacle was a hopeless one. Had 
it been one of his own daughters he might have yielded, but 
the child of his brother — ^his orphaned Antonia, left. by that 
brother to his tenderest care in the moment that his life- 
blood was ebbing, to allow her to be placed in a position in 
which she would be deprived of all the accompaniments which 
belong to her station, would be a slight, in the eye of the 
world, to which he never would consent. He had to think of 
what was due to his position, no less than the young Hector 
had to hold fast by his principle, and under these hopeless 
circumstances it was a miserable necessity to have to see the 
shadow resting on the child whom it was his life’s object to 
brighten ai^d shield I 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


413 


‘ I suppose,’ replied Mrs. Barrington, in her tone of mild 
decision, ‘ when two principles clash, the lower principle must 
he allowed to bend to the higher, or we at once compromise 
our allegiance to Heaven ? ’ 

‘ I cannot,’ the General replied, ‘ take a step, let the case 
be what it may, which I feel to be a wrong one, to reach 
what another may feel to be a right point to adhere to. No, 
no, let each feel his own way, and abide by the consequences ! ’ 
‘ But if the orphan Antonia is to be sacrificed in the con- 
flict between these opposing principles, the consequences will 
become more than personal / Can you form a probable sup- 
position as to what her father’s decision would have been ! ’ 

‘ Yes, yes, he always gave all the circumstantials of sta- 
tion to the winds ! As a boy, he was satisfied with the home- 
liest of all things. A man may walk over all that is 
conventional in society, but it is a very different question 
when it comes to the point of depriving a girl like Antonia, 
of all their enshrinement. And this reminds me of a feature 
of her nobleness of character. She has from the first shown 
her submission, and from the day of my denial has never re- 
ferred to the subject ; and, at the time, she did not even 
name her father ! She knew that I was well aware of his 
views, and she did not appeal from my will even to the feel- 
ing she must have known would have been her father’s.’ 

‘Such silence,’ replied Mrs. Barrington, ‘must be far 
more irresistible than words.’ 

‘ It was, it was ! and I never can forget it ; but think of 
lettin# down such nobleness of soul to the homes of the 


414 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


peasantry for life ! I know well enough the world’s estimate 
— ‘‘ An easy put-off for a girl that far outshone any of my 
own.” I could not stand it, I know I could not ! ’ 

‘We have seen nobleness dwell among cottages,’ said 
Mrs. Barrington, with a half-reproving smile, ‘ when the 
Son of the Blessed made His earthly home among the 
peasantry of Gralilee.’ 

‘ Ah, well ! ’ said the General, rising, ‘ the less of argu- 
ment on most points the better; it unsettles one’s mind, 
without changing the necessity ; but I am glad to have talked 
it over with you. You can feel for me, I am sure ! ’ 

‘ Yes, indeed I can,’ replied Mrs. Barrington, ‘ for the 
responsibility is yours before Heaven, as well as before the 
World — ^we must beware which we put first ! ’ 

When Edward Seymour stood for the last time alone in 
Antonia’s presence, he had said with a passionless aspect, a 
look from which all earthly emotion seemed for ever sen- 
tenced and gone, beneath the touch of hopeless denial, he 
had said, ‘ My first and earliest vow was to God — to aim 
always at His will, whatever might be between me and it. 
My next was to His Church — ^to lay aside the study of the 
world and of the flesh. It is these vows which bind my 
conscience to a pastoral simplicity of life among the people 
for whose souls I must give account to God ; and could I 
depart from the conviction of my soul in these things, I then 
myself would be the first to say, A heart of broken vows 
could be ho earthly shrine for you ! But if you know of 
anything that love, “ stronger than death,” might do, or at- 
tempt to do, I charge you, tell me before you turn away ! ’ 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


415 


Antonia answered, ‘ Oh, daily, hourly, say, “ Thy will be 
done ! ” Say it not in sorrowing resignation, but in living 
prayer! God’s will is omnipotent. God’s will is love. 
Pray that it may be done as in Heaven so in earth, and do 
nothing more; if the will of Heaven gives, it will give 
abundantly I ’ Then, for the first time, Antonia gave her 
hand, not as the pledge of union, but the seal of that fare- 
well. One moment to his lips he pressed it, and the next 
he was alone — alone with the holy Heaven. 

Weeks passed away, when one autumn morning the Gen- 
eral called early at the Grange, and asked for Mrs. Barring- 
ton. Mrs. Barrington received him in her own sitting- 
room ; he entered with a hurried step, but instead of words, 
his strength yielded, and he broke into weeping. Mrs. Bar- 
rington was perfectly ovefcome ; but a few moments stem- 
med the torrent of his long pent-up feeling, and self-command 
reigned again. Then he said, — 

‘ It is done 1 it is done ! The rock of my hard heart is* 
smitten, its last stronghold is taken; I have yielded to 
Heaven ; the children are happy, and we are all thankful to 
God.’ 

Mrs. Barrington was deeply touched, as if ‘ the children ’ 
had been her own ; so entirely had her spirit felt with, and 
honoured their high line of suffering obedience. The Gen- 
eral told her with all his natural frankness, how, since his 
denial, his heart had been dead — not even the Divine word 
had been felt, nothing penetrated the shield of his pride and 
self-will ; but that morning at family prayers, his son had 


416 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


read, in order of course, the 28th chapter of Job. * And, 
said the Genera], ‘ it laid the whole open before me ! Yes, 
I thought, if there be a young head crowned with wisdom 
upon earth, it is his, and I have been weighing against it all 
manner of this world’s poor dross ! No wonder he stood up 
above me as firm as a rock, and would make no compromise. 
I see it all now. Well, I rose from my knees, having made 
my confession, while they were offering up their morning 
adoration. I rose, but I stirred not a step from where I 
stood, there I called her to me, I folded her to my heart, and 
before them all, I said, “ Forgive me, my child, it is granted ! 
God’s blessing on you both, and His mercy on me I ” Well, 
as I held her to my heart, the first words she faintly said, 
were, “ Papa will bless you for this. His last charge to me 
was, to keep the world under my ijeet ! ” I wrote off to the 
Alps before I sat down to breakfast, and he was with An- 
tonia before you could believe the call had reached him ! I 
came to make my confession, you see, and to beg you will 
look in upon us all as soon as you may be able.’ 

Jane’s bright visit that autumn to the moated Grange, 
and how her presence lighted up its aspect of the olden time, 
her sweet friendship with Antonia, the spirit and the life she 
woke around, and all the love she won from all, even down 
to .the noble St. Bernard dog, we cannot now narrate. The 
winter came, and she returned again to the metropolis. 

‘ Uncle, I cannot take these kind and costly gifts with 
me. They would not suit my simple Rectory, nor me in it. 
Do not look grave ; indeed my home will be all brightness 


THE MINISTRY OP LIFE. 


417 


in its freedom, you shall see it will be ; and the earnest in 
heart will care as much to come as if it were a costlier home, 
perhaps more, if all the truth were known. I know the day 
will come when you will say that your Antonia’s home is 
best in its simplicity, that if you could, you would not change 
it ! I want to tell you what I long to do with these rich 
gifts. I have written down the name of each kind giver. 
And now I want to ask you if you could take these splendid 
presents and get them changed for me into a clock for the 
tower of the Alpine church ? It would make me so happy, 
if I could have a gift of general, cheerful use for all ! And 
when I heard it strike, hour after hour, all my life long 
among the hills, it would remind me of the friends whose 
kindness made me able to put it there ; and all the villagers 
would hear the sound and feel its constant benefit. My 
bridal gifts in that form could never be forgotten, and must 
always give fresh pleasure.’ 

The General was surprised and unwilling at first, but 
promised to undertake the transfer. 

When the marriage day was fixed the General called An- 
tonia aside, and said, ‘ Tell me, my child, what gift will you 
most value from your uncle and aunt ? Ask, and you shall 
not be denied, if only it be worthy of our love. We have 
vainly tried to decide for -you, seeing the world and the 
things of the world are under your feet ! ’ Antonia then im- 
parted a secret wish to her uncle. 

The days rolled on and the eve of her bridal was come.' 
The Hall was filled with guests. Jane was there, and Mrs. 

18 * 


418 THE MINISTRY OP LIPE. 

Barrington, Laura also was there, and Miss Keymer. When 
the ladies left the drawing-room, Antonia drew Miss Key- 
mer’s arm in hers and accompanied by Leonore led her out 
into the garden, on towards the western sky where the sun- 
set was glowing, until a short turn in the pathway led them 
down to a green nook, a little way back from tbe road, 
where the foundation for a house was then beginning ; the 
workmen were gone, all was repose, and the birds warbled 
in the trees as if the building was one that was to be reared 
up with praise. 

‘ Dear Miss Keymer,’ said Antonia, ^ could you be happy 
living here, so near to the home that you love, and looking 
up to my nest in the hills I ’ 

Miss Keymer trembled, for there was no playfulness in 
Antonia’s deep tone. Antonia saw the question was too 
much for her, and hastened to say, ‘ This home is indeed 
preparing for you ! It is my uncle and aunt’s gift to me, 
that we may have you always near us, and that you may 
have this sweet repose to refresh you after all your efforts 
for others. It is to be a lovely cottage, under these shelter- 
ing trees, with a garden around it. 0, it makes me so happy 
to think of you here, with long bright hours of calm reading, 
and no claim but the sweet one of giving help and comfort 
to all that you love, rich and poor I Will you not be happy ? ’ 
again said Antonia, as she fervently sealed her gift with a 
kiss. 

‘ Blest indeed ! ’ said Miss Keymer, and she raised her 
glance from Antonia to Heaven 1 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


419 


The marriage-day dawned in its brightness ; it was the 
spring-tide of the year. Buds, blossoms, and birds, and the 
heart of two villages awoke to welcome the day. The ser- 
vice was to be performed at the church of the Alps ; and 
many a young step surprised the dew-drops that morning, 
hastening thither with fresh-gathered flowers. Laura, Clara, 
and Leonore, followed by the little village-girls, were seen in 
the early morning ascending the Alpine hill, laden with their 
fragrant burden. They carpeted the chancel with bright 
flowers, hung them in festoons on the tombstones, and strewed 
them on the peasants’ grassy graves, until the fragrant blos- 
soming around told, not of death, but resurrection-life. 

Antonia, that morning, breakfasted alone with her aunt, 
whose tears fell unbidden, and the orphan wept unrestrained 
in her maternal embrace. 

Both villages, all of every age, were to meet on the festal 
occasion. Long tables were spread beneath the shade of 
the beech-trees for all the village guests invited. Eleven 
was the hour for the service at the church ; and the pews, 
and the aisles, and churchyard, were fllled with people as- 
sembling from all sides. An awning, supported on two 
poles, hung in front of the old church-tower. At length the 
procession was seen in the distance ; it ascended the hill, 
then slackening its pace came almost to a stand ; in a few 
moments the awning was dropped from the tower, and the 
peal of soft chimes struck at once on the ear. Then the 
carriages stood ; it was Antonio’s bridal clock I its chimes 
played for the first time, and then its musical bell struck the 


420 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


hour of her bridal — the first hour it had told. The villagers 
had learned the history, they had gathered it one from an- 
other, and all was, in that moment, the deep silence of feel- 
ing, the reverence of love. 

At the altar stood the bridegroom awaiting his bride, his 
friends beside him, and within the rails the bishop who years 
before had ordained him. Around the chancel stood the 
children of the Alpine school, where Antonia had, for long, 
taught with her cousins. The village mistress had devised 
a little plan of her own ; as Antonia, supported on the arm 
of her uncle, entered the porch, the children sang out the 
first verse of their favourite hymn ; and as the General trod 
the aisle with a step less firm than that with which he had 
pressed the sod of the battle-field, the words broke on his 
ear, “ In Heaven we part no more I ” The infant hymn 
was hushed in a moment, but it cost many, in the long pro- 
cession, an effort to retain composure, and the veteran soldier 
for a moment struggled almost in vain ; but he felt the 
trembling form that leaned on him, and was strong for her 
sake. 

When the bride reappeared on the arm of her husband 
beneath the church-porch, the people received them, every 
head was uncovered; the marriage-bells pealed from the 
tower, and the long procession was soon lost in the distance ; 
the people followed in bright groups, along the lanes and 
through the valleys, to the welcome awaiting them. 

Thought can picture, without the narrative’s aid, what 
the home of Antonia became. An English Rectory, so cul- 


THE MINISTRY OF LIFE. 


421 


fcirated in its power that it could adapt itself to all who 
passed its threshold ; it could raise the peasant mind, charm 
the sturdy agriculturist into expansion of feeling, and in its 
free expression interest the most educated. Where the 
highest refinement was shown in the power of calling forth 
the best feelings of others, and where goodness made itself 
most felt by its enkindling warmth. Such was that English 
Rectory, and such many arc ; but not all. There are Eng- 
lish Rectories at whose door stands no Angel of mercy, 
fenced round by no prayers of the poor, over whose roof 
lingers no sunbeam of blessing. 0 that the dwellers within 
them may awake, while yet the Bridegroom is distant, and 
trim their darkened lamps, and go forth; not alone, but 
having by seven-fold love “ in a short time fulfilled the work 
of a long time I” let them win to the fold the infant of days 
and the old man, the strong in years and the sick on the bed 
of languishing, the lame, and the deaf, and the blind ; let 
them so labour in the power of the constraining love of 
Christ that all these may be won, that when the chief Shep- 
herd shall appear they may loox around upon these as their 
glory and joy, and may receive “ a crown that fadeth not 
away.” 

Who shall attempt to tell all that the pastor’s home often 
is, and always might be ! Opportunities, privileges, and re- 
sponsibilities — bearing upon the personal destiny of others, 
meet in that calm centre with a power unequalled. When 
these are daily risen to and met in a strength divine, a light 
celestial, a love exhaustless and unwearied— because a love 


422 


THE MINISTEY OP LIPE. 


whose source is infinite and eternal, who can estimate the 
bright results ? 

But the radiance rests not upon the pastor’s home alone. 
Heavenly truth and love, with whatever elements of char- 
acter, or position of circumstances combined, will be raised 
to an ascendancy over human hearts upon earth, and a king- 
dom in Heaven. The Lord will create upon every dwell- 
ing-place of Mount Zion, and upon her assemblies, a cloud 
and smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night, 
for upon all the glory shall be a defence.” 


THE END. 


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